Baroness
by Suikorin
Summary: One night, Genya Arikado unexpectedly revealed tidbits of his past to Yoko. The story continues with an all too playful Yoko and too serious Genya joined together to solve an investigation.
1. ONE

Baroness

Summary: One night, Genya Arikado unexpectedly revealed tidbits of his past to Yoko

Rating: T - some suggestive langauge

Disclaimer: Ain't mine.

Author's notes: I miss writing. Beta-ed

The bustle of the night life rang through the city. Neon lights, lit signs and sky lights all pointed to one of the most popular clubs in the top three floors of a Kabukicho skyscraper, the Gion. The rich youths who were born into money, or those who pretended to inherit a fortune, buzzed around the place like hungry mosquitoes. The established rich flocked to the place like vultures to carcasses. Anything and everything expensive was for sale, be it companionship, drugs or flesh. Both men and women advertised their bodies there: all of them demanded handsome compensation for their mere attention. This was a gentlemen's club with the vigor of a dance club. Many came for the atmosphere of absolute indulgence, wild success and human vices.

It was not very often that Yoko found herself in such an establishment as the Gion. A proper lady such as her spent her spare time at churches or in some god-forsaken tomb in the middle of nowhere.

But today, Yoko found herself in a completely different mood. Instead of her usual pomp and suave self, she was riddled with self pity and annoyance.

The entire thing was set off by one of Yoko's co-workers.

Kasumi, the administrative assistant of their office, came in with her new baby. Kasumi was radiant, cradling her newborn, exuding motherly pride. She talked nonstop about her family and how much joy they brought her. Yoko had never seen anyone so happy because of a little red wiggling thing. However, once the baby smiled and cooed at her, Yoko was stricken.

Even their usually indifferent boss, Genya Arikado, seemed vulnerable to a child's call.

Genya Arikado was their executive from a government branch so secret that not even Yoko knew the name of the branch. He was an exhaustless master, first to arrive and last to leave. He was always up for midnight stake-outs and had always answered his communications on weekends. He never talked about his life, only about work. He was also the most intelligent and wisest man Yoko had ever met. Of course, he also had to be dark and mysterious, with pitch black hair and light brown eyes. His sense of fashion was impeccable and he could be so charming when he wished it. So almost everywhere he went, women flocked to him as if he was chocolate. Yoko herself was not immune to his charm either.

That day, when Kasumi brought her brood, Genya come out of his office and gave the mother and child a passing glance and smile. To Kasumi, he was still being his usual menacing self since she was not used to even seeing their stoic boss. To Yoko, the contrast was between night and day. Then Genya went to Kasumi and congratulated her on the new addition to the family. The office gossiped about his unusually human comment for hours later.

Seeing all these gushy family moments made Yoko reevaluate her own life. She had dated before, and had fell in love before, but never married nor had children. The married part she would not mind skipping because she never had much luck on finding the right guy. Children were noisy, stupid and costly. Still, Yoko wondered what it would be like to have an adorable miniature version of herself running around or having a husband to call her 'sweetheart' every day.

What about Genya? Yoko had a slight crush on him because he had one criterion that made him attractive; Genya was better than her at everything. From knowledge, skill, physical prowess, strength, magic to attitude, Genya surpassed her in every way. However, Yoko knew better than to pursue that attraction. Genya was the epitome of workaholics, without known family or hobbies. For all Yoko knew, Genya was married to his work; the man did not have any room for someone else.

Yoko felt doomed. She was already thirty-four years old and unmarried. She would forever be a spinster without anyone to call her own. So that afternoon, when she caught herself looking through a phone book for a sperm bank and thinking about taking Hammer up on that date offer, she knew she had hit rock bottom.

Therefore, Yoko found herself in Gion, partly to satisfy the nonsense urge to find a sperm donor and to find the hardest alcohol to knock some sense into herself. Perhaps she might end up in a one night stand and become as happy as Kasumi nine months later.

She was disappointed, at first.

With her blonde hair, mysterious gray eyes, supermodel body and fair complexion, she easily attracted many men and all offered to buy her a drink. Some even mistook her for one of the dancers pretending to be normal. The Gion was a place where people's fantasies came true. What greater fantasy than meeting a passionate soul mate at a bar? Of course, they all bought her drinks in hopes that the tiny gift would promise favor. Yoko, who had an ungodly tolerance to alcohol due to her special talents, outdrank all of them, even when one of them spiked her drink. Somehow, Yoko felt that her one-night-stand should be with a man who could keep up with her.

"You know, you shouldn't hang out at a place like this," the bartender Heni shouted over the hearing-loss death metal at one point. He was a strange fellow with ghostly chestnut eyes and dyed-blue hair.

"You're not my mother," Yoko spat back petulantly. "I'll be here as long as someone buys me drinks."

Heni crossed his arms. He had seen many good people who came to the Gion to cheer themselves up. "Look, you're a nice girl, I can tell by that expensive purse, real jewelry and ladylike way you carry yourself. But this isn't the place for you."

"I can take care myself," said Yoko, taking another sip. Her face had turned red, but she didn't feel it impaired her ability. "And I'm having a good time."

"No. You're here to feel sorry for the things that went wrong in your life," said Heni. "You can get much cheaper drinks down the streets at Saki-chan's than here and you won't be alone."

Yoko scoffed. In the three hours she was here, this Heni guy is already acting as if he knew her all his life. "How can you tell?"

"Easy," said Heni, pointing to a spot in the overlook on the upper part of the floor. "That guy over there is here for the same thing, and he's been coming here for years on the same day. I would tell him to go down the street but he is the owner."

That was when Yoko thought she was hallucinating. She blinked and backed up, confirming what she saw.

Up there, beyond the balustrades was clearly Genya Arikado.

"Tell me that's not Genya," muttered Yoko.

"Oh, that's him alright. Genya Arikado," said Heni. "He's usually not here. But even when he is, he never samples the beauties here, saying that they're tasteless and he's had better. That's some high standards, I tell you."

Yoko was not listening to Heni's babbling. Instead, she concentrated on her own growing indignity. She felt almost betrayed. Years working together and Genya did not bother to tell her that he owned the most popular place in town. Hell, she could have had all those top shelf drinks for free! With a determination for heart to heart talk and some free drinks, Yoko sauntered up the stairs to the one slightly more quiet area on the upper terraced floor.

Genya was slouched at a lavish black circle couch with pillows spread about. In front of him was a low coffee table with a shot glass and a bottle half filled with liquor and a dozen cigarette butts. Under the dark lights of the club, Genya's usually brown eyes looked ghoulishly yellow; his pale skin looked funeral sheet white; matched with his long coal black hair, he looked more like a vampire than human.

Yoko just stood there, not quite sure if she was seeing the right thing. Genya never smoked, nor did he seem the type to imbibe hard liquor. He was like a machine that needed no sleep and a computer who had no disk space for inefficient activities. He was their superior, their boss, their leader who never had a moment of error, or a moment of emotion.

Now, Genya looked like he might have feelings. Yoko thought that maybe the world ended and no one bothered to tell her.

"Hello Yoko-san," said Genya, without looking at her. "You're not imaging things."

Yoko quickly returned to reality. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Nor did I expect you here," he finally turned his curiously golden eyes upon her. It was one of his many usual abilities. He seemed to sense people before seeing them. He nodded toward the bottle. "Want a drink with me?" Genya asked.

Yoko's eyes went wide. "Are you serious? Boss?"

"It's after hours," Genya explained. "And we all have vices."

Yoko pretended to think about the proposition for a moment then nodded. "Alright," She sat down next to Genya, close enough for their thighs to touch, and too close to be just friends. She rarely had the opportunity to be playful with the all stone-faced Genya and she wondered how he would react.

Genya raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. He instead, snapped a finger and a stripper seemed to pop out of nowhere with a tray of liquor and glasses. He picked out a plain shot glass and set it down at the low coffee table. The stripper then stooped down to kiss him on the cheek, winked at Yoko, and disappeared through a hidden door.

Genya, true to his imperturbable nature, did not even flinch. He nonchalantly poured a shot of innocuous looking clear liquid and offered Yoko the glass. "It's strong, more than a year's salary and on me."

The pleasant scent of lilac touched her senses. This was likely some type of sweet liqueur. "You're trying to take me home tonight?"

The man was impervious to her advances. "No. Just offering something that's far better than the piss you've been drinking all night."

For some reason, a cussing Genya was definitely a great turn on. "So you were watching me."

"Think what you like."

Yoko smiled, and took the glass. They clanked each other's glasses then downed the shot. The liquid was like fire, and still burned after she swallowed. In a short time, she was warmer than ever.

"Pleasant," said Yoko with a smile. "What is it?"

"You don't want to know." Genya said, pouring himself another little cup.

The woman shook her head a little, and was even surprised that the room shook too. She touched her cheek and felt the comforting heat. "It's strong. That had to be something close to scented gasoline."

"I'm glad for you," said Genya, taking another shot for him. "I'm not even warm."

Yoko raised an eyebrow and touched Genya's face. She pretended not to notice his non-reaction to her touch only to frown as she noticed the temperature difference. "You're slightly cool. Are you sick?"

Genya shook his head. "No. This is natural for me."

"Are you sure?" Yoko poured as much concern into her voice as she could.

"It has saved on dry cleaning bills for many summers," said Genya dryly.

After a moment of registering that Genya was joking with her, Yoko laughed and settled back into the couch. Then, feeling her head sway some more, she laid her head on Genya's lap and turned to look at him. It never ceased to amazed her how aristocratic he was, with those long lashes, high cheekbones, and piercing eyes.

"Yoko..." Genya began. He was obviously not in the mood to accept her familiarity with him. "Please don't..."

"Genya," said Yoko, "Just amuse me for the night. It won't hurt anything and I won't say a word to anyone."

The blasting death metal music had faded into a mellower soft rock. The mood was perfect to close out the night. She liked this, being tipsy and relaxing with a friend. Maybe if she played it right, she might even see what her friend looked like under his expensive suit.

Genya, however, stretched his arms back to hang on the head of the couch. He may let Yoko lay her head on his lap, but he was not about to touch her with his hands.

"Why are you here?" Genya asked out of the blue. "You don't seem like the type to hang out in this type of joint."

"I can ask you the same thing," said Yoko. "You're less likely to be here than me."

"I own the place," explained Genya. "Which I'm sure Heni told you."

"He also told me that you only come once a year."

Her comeback seemed to strike a chord in Genya. He shut up immediately and blatantly ignored her. He took a long drag on his cigarette and fingered a pendent on his necklace. He was pensive again.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Yoko pouted. She liked the idea of spending the entire night in conversation, not in complete silence. Her game at being the coy fox backfired and she had to come up with another strategy. "You know what? Let's play twenty questions."

The look Genya gave her could have lesser men crying. "You have to be joking."

"Come on," Yoko encouraged. "It'll be fun. I'll let you start. Ask me why I'm here."

He ignored her. "Why didn't you answer my question earlier then?"

"Oh good! You're already playing!" Yoko cheered.

Genya took a deep breath. This was definitely the reason why he avoided Yoko when he could. She was too playful and far too flirtatious to be a proper church member. She also had the supernatural talents to make his life miserable, like that time when she 'accidentally' set fire to his file cabinets. Maybe his stroke of kindness was misplaced. Maybe he needed to find a more secluded place.

"I really need to purchase a cellar around here," said Genya, rubbing his temples with one hand.

Yoko pretended not to hear him. "Aren't you even curious why I didn't answer your question?"

"No."

Again, Yoko pretended not to hear his response and told him anyways. "Because you're the master at avoiding answers. And don't argue because you know it's true." Yoko playfully touched the tip of his nose. Then, to Genya's relief, she sat back up again, only to clear out a spot on the coffee table to sit and face him. Both of her hands grabbed both of his hands. "Come on. You wanted to know why I'm here, but I'm definitely getting you to answer my question. Unless you want to brood all night."

Genya rolled his eyes and sighed. He muttered something unintelligible. "Alright Yoko. I'll play your game. Do let go of my hands before I make you let go."

The woman released her hold quickly but kept a smile on her face. That threat was much more like the Genya she knew.

"Why are you here?" Genya started.

Honesty was always the best policy, so Yoko did not stutter when she said, "To get laid."

He nodded. "That sounds about right."

The luminous blonde gave him a staid stare. Sometimes, Genya had the sensitivity of a rock. "You're a jerk sometimes, you know that?"

"Been told quite few times. You can be quite the coquette, you know that too?"

"One of the best," said Yoko, seeing his jocular mood coming back. "What's your astrological sign?"

Now that was unexpected. "What kind of question is that?"

"Hey!" Yoko frowned. "One question at a time."

Genya took a deep breath. He seemed to be in deep in thought.

"Don't tell me you don't know your astrological sign," Yoko prodded.

Genya gave her an answer. "Capricorn."

"So you're born mid-winter?"

"One question at a time," parroted Genya. Two can play that game. "Why do you want to get laid?"

"Why? I'm thirty-four, single and I have needs," she gave a heavily lidded smile. "A lot of needs..." Her finger traced down his chest through his silk shirt and down to a more intimate place. "How are your needs?"

True to Genya's infamous imperturbable nature, he grabbed her wrist and moved the arm calmly back to her lap. "No comment," he said curtly without even batting an eye. "Have you been laid before?"

"Of course." The answer was short and concise. She continued on with her questions with a sparkle in her eyes. "What's your favorite position?"

"Liberal Democratic. At least they're inclined to believe in the supernatural and pay me," His answer was short and concise too, in a completely different topic. "Favorite food?"

"Crème Broule. You?"

"Blood."

Yoko raised an eyebrow. That sounded strongly natural. "Are you serious? You're not a vampire, are you?"

"One question at a time, please," Genya reminded. "It's my turn. What's your hobby?"

"Painting, reading and writing," said Yoko. She could be short and impersonal about her answers also. "Your hobby?"

"Karaoke," he said seriously.

Yoko coughed, trying not to laugh. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," Genya delivered dead pan. "Whom would you like to get laid with?"

Yoko gave him a sultry look. "Well, with you, if I can. Are you offering?"

"No." The man said stoically, still unperturbed by her many come-ons. "Does this have anything to do with Kasumi and her growing brood?"

This was where Yoko was hesitant. The whole thing did stem from Kasumi's children. "Yes." Yoko admitted.

"Oh? Elaborate?"

For once, Yoko did not argue for an answer to her own questions. "I want...I don't know what I want. It's just that Kasumi is so happy and my mother is asking me when I'm giving her a granddaughter and everyone I know has at least one child. I look back on my life and realized that I don't have a family of my own and sometime I wonder if I'll be happy with a husband and child. Do you know what I mean?"

"Perfectly. That's seventeen questions so far."

Leave it to Genya to spoil the mood. "No it's not!"

"Are you about to argue with your superior?"

"Yes!" Yoko exclaimed.

"That was another question and answer number eighteen."

"You're taking all the fun out of this." Yoko was flustered.

"I'm a dull kind of person." Genya answered in his usual mono-tone. As if suddenly irritated, he continued. "Look, Yoko. It was a pleasure to see you here and you are a fun person. But if you can't even enjoy a game of your own device, then we should stop."

"Fine. My real question then. Why are **you **here? You don't look as if you even enjoy this type of atmosphere. And you better answer me seriously mister, or I'll be extremely cross with you." She picked up a glass of water that a good stripper had dropped off unobtrusively earlier.

He fingered the little silver cross on his necklace, now visible outside his shirt. "Today is my wedding anniversary and I'm celebrating." He said sincerely.

Water came spluttering out. "What?"

"I've answered your question, Yoko-san," said Genya calmly.

Yoko had enough of his stark adherence to rules. "Genya. We worked together for more than a decade and you never told me that you have a wife! Why aren't you home with her? And where's your ring? And you better answer me properly or I'll be very cross with you."

Genya gave Yoko a steady stare as he poured himself another cup. For some reason, Genya's light brown eyes turned a silvery gold for a moment when he took another shot. His face twisted into a semblance of sardonic irony. Then he looked away and declared. "She left me."

Yoko nodded knowingly. "Divorce?" Marriages these days, usually did not last. She had heard so many stories where divorce was a release from a trap rather than a heart break. Besides, Genya was a workaholic who probably loved his job more than anything else. Any woman would not wish to be married to a man who paid more attention to work than her.

Genya shook his head. "No. She died."

"Oh!" For once, Yoko wished she had kept her mouth shut.

Unexpectedly, Genya elaborated. "She was my gift from God." His voice was soft. "I was very young then, far more naive in the frailty of the world than now. She was intelligent and frighteningly beautiful. She had a ferocious temper with the strength and passion that surpassed all others. She drove me mad with fury and want." Genya raised the glass, eyes distant but his voice was filled with an indescribable longing. "My beloved Baroness Germain was everything to me."

Yoko felt jealous and sad at the same time. Jealous that a woman already existed for Genya. However, she was sad looking at his gut-wrenching expression. "So...what happened to her?" Yoko already knew the answer, but knew she had to ask. She may never see Genya bear his soul again. She also took note of the name and reminded herself to look up the person in her spare time.

"I had enemies," said Genya with numb detachment. "Nothing that she couldn't handle, under normal circumstances. But she fell ill the one winter I was away. She was midway with child then." There was a long solemn pause. "I came back in time to watch her die."

Yoko swallowed at the possible reason why Genya had always been so fanatical about work. Genya had a personal vendetta against the evil supernaturals who killed the woman he loved.

Genya, however, continued. "I can never forget the sights and smells when I found her. She laid in a pool of blood, her rattling breaths, dead monstrosities around her, that sickening smell of iron. She held on long enough to tell me that she was sorry for not being able to take care of herself and leaving so early. Can you imagine that, Yoko? A woman on the verge of death apologizing for not being capable!"

Yoko didn't say anything in return. She could, in fact, imagine that. Arikado could be such a demanding boss that even Yoko felt oppressed from time to time. If a woman was to capture his heart, she had to be more than amazing.

"She made me promise to remember our life together and not mourn her death. Then she died in my arms." Genya picked up another shot and filled it. "And so, I celebrate our anniversary." He downed the glass.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to open up old wounds," said Yoko sounding properly abashed. This was terrible, since this mysterious former wife had ruined her and Genya's mood. "If I knew, I wouldn't have asked."

"Don't be." Genya carefully set down the glass. "Because you're not. No one's sorrow is greater than your own, no matter how trivial it may be."

"Hey! I didn't..." Yoko was about to protest.

"But I do thank you, for acting as if you are." Genya said in his usual wisdom. "I haven't talked about Sonia for a long time and needed to talk about her." He then looked at Yoko speculatively. "You resemble her, a bit. She had wavy golden hair with blue eyes. But she was much more proper, unforgiving," he chuckled a little, "and blunt."

The woman was completely taken away by the off handed comment and not sure if he was complimenting or insulting her.

After a long moment, he stood up and gestured for her. "Come."

"What?" Yoko was completely confused.

"Now that you have the aperitif, it's only proper that I, the host, treat you to dinner."

Yoko looked at him, wide eyed in disbelief.

"You're not about to refuse, are you?"

For that, Yoko only gave a smile.


	2. TWO

Baroness: Chapter Two:

Disclaimer: Aint mine. Just having fun.

Author's Note: I had an entire backstory in my mind and this spat out. As usual, this is a fun-to-write thing. Finally beta-ed

* * *

April came with unpredictable gifts from the sky. The first day was awarded with an out-of-season typhoon. The wind howled as icy rain pelted the city. After one day of relatively calm weather, a low pressure from the north resulted in a heavy unexpected snow storm. The weekend closed with a wind chill factor that made the soul numb.

The abnormal weather meant an impromptu vacation for many. Businesses and government offices closed, citing travel risks due to weather conditions. The roads were icy and some power lines were down. People stayed home and spent time on the internet trying to figure out the reasons behind this bizarre extension of winter.

For the unfortunate few, however, vacation was not an option. The Archeological Society, a discreet branch of the government that investigated the paranormal, was ran by a man who viewed work as holy and opened the office despite the knee-high snow. He gave explicit orders for his workers to stay home if they wished, but not without letting them know that he would be at the office.

For Yoko, the foxy blond of the Society and member of the Church, was not one to be outdone. Instead of huddling close to a space heater and chatting with her sister on the phone about the latest celebrity break ups in the comfort of her apartment, she drove two hours, during the wee hours of the morning, as slowly as possible so as not to slide on the ice, to the nondescript warehouse in the industrial district of town.

Yoko felt silly as she cruised to the empty parking lot and felt the biting cold as she opened the car door. Why was she at work anyways? The sun wasn't completely up. There was enough desk work and vacation time that she could have spent the day in the coziness of her home. Besides, it was not like Genya would be impressed by the hours she put in; Genya had machine-like focus that never tired.

But Genya was not inhuman, as he had demonstrated that one night at the nightclub called the Gion. In fact, Yoko suspected that Genya worked so hard so he could forget the fact that he was human with all too human emotions.

That night at the Gion was over half a year ago, though. After the expensive dinner they had together, Genya acted as if that blasphemous confession of memories never occurred. Yoko kept her vow and never uttered a word to anyone about Genya's display of humanness. She went back to her bantering self. He went back to his stone-cold sober self.

The security card reader beeped as Yoko opened the heavy back entrance door, moving quickly inside before the door closed with the commonplace forceful slam.

The warehouse was the same temperature as outside, without the wind chill. There were tools and relics littering the warehouse. A stash of silver spears were stacked neatly in a corner, next to the stakes and holy water. The company limo was parked inside, unused since the cardinal's visited last. Cabinets filled with paper spells, along with mundane stationary, lined the walls. In particular though, there was one large conditioned freight box, not unlike the ones seen on railcars. Like most freight boxes, it was a dull rusted red color with chipped paint and squeaky hinges. Glancing at the freight box, Yoko was reminded of one of her minor but important tasks. Making a mental note, Yoko walked quickly to the boarded office space.

As expected, the lights and heater were already on. Coffee and tea were made but not touched. The communal TV showed the latest news reel. On the fax machine, requests had already came in from the Church. On the receptionist's desk was a pile of mail. Yoko, still somewhat tired, like a zombie, proceeded directly to the coffee.

"Global warming my ass. It's far too cold to be April," Yoko groused as she warmed her hand with the steaming mug. The heat felt heavenly. After taking a couple of sips, she went straight to the only other soul in the area.

Genya's work office was not what one would expect for a member of the highest ranking government official. There was no posh desk of dark cherry, no ergonomic black leather chair and even a modern desk lamp was nowhere to be found. A workaholic to the bone, Genya's office was like a filing room. Dull egg white filing drawers lined the walls and sat arranged in rows behind him. Pieces of plywood laid on top of two-drawer filling cabinets served as desks and working surfaces. Overhead were stark white fluorescent lights. A three-in-one scanner, copier and printer sat in a corner.

As for Genya, he sat on a metal stool with rollers, looking at a monitor screen and typing away, occasionally turning around to note a paper before resuming typing. He looked slightly ridiculous, working in such a drab room wearing a pressed shirt and slacks.

"What are you doing here?" were Genya's first words. Obviously, he was not expecting anyone.

_To keep you from working yourself to death,_ was what Yoko wanted to say. She liked Genya, as her boss and as a friend. She found herself worried over his well being when he was in his working frenzy mode. However, she also knew that her words of concern would be brushed off like one would brush off gnats.

"We have a new shipment of artifacts that awaits inventory and catalogue," Yoko said instead. Nothing engaged Genya like work. "As registered curators of the Society, we need to catalogue every piece before sending them to museums for authentication or auction."

Outwardly, as curators, they gathered and purchased trinkets for museum around the world. It was a useful cover since museum curators were believed to be stuffy eccentrics that had nothing better to do than to look up meaningless tomes and strangely shaped ornaments. They could show up at cemeteries and mausoleums without being questioned. Priceless heirlooms, imbued treasures and historical documents often made their way to the Society's warehouse. It was only through this guise that Yoko was able to learn many powerful spells and potion recipes from tomes that were lost for centuries.

Genya seemed to consider the task at hand for two seconds. "You can't wait until Sando comes back?"

Sando was one of the best curators and historians in Japan and was assigned permanently to catalogue the trinkets.

"Sando is on vacation," said Yoko. "The shipment is purported to be seventeenth-century artifacts from Moscow. And frankly, you're the only one here who knows Cyrillic-based languages."

Language prowess had always been one of Genya's most well-hidden talents. Yoko only learned of it when the both of them took a business trip through Europe and realized that Genya was fluent in almost all Eastern European languages and dialects among the ethnic groups. And as easily as Yoko could just plop the words into a computer translator, it was faster to just let Genya translate directly. Not to mention that it would force Genya out of that stuffy office to work with her.

Genya seemed intrigued. "You go ahead. I'll join you within the hour."

Yoko nodded and proceed to the aforementioned storage box in the warehouse. She pulled on a pair of magically imbued gloves and pulled up her hair. Cataloguing could be dull but also hazardous. Cursed items often looked the same as a regular forged item.

With a disgusted comment about the weather, she began to pull the items from the crates, dump the bubble wrap and take off the protective films. Once the items were liberated and glanced at for damages, and matched against a packing list, they were taken out and laid on the tables for later cleaning and sorting.

The items were varied, including random pieces of burnished silver jewelry, a few religious books, a couple of skulls and sacks that were no doubt once worn on the backs of serfs. There were silver stakes, silver arrows, preserved garlic and crystal jars with stoppers; all items bearing the obvious signature of supernatural hunting.

The good, useful instruments, books and actual antiques with historical significance were placed in one pile. The useless items, often antique jewelry, decorations and paintings, were placed in another pile for auction. The Archeological Society worked on an expensive tab, much of it for traveling since, despite there being so few members to send around, the locations they worked were all over the world.

Yoko checked off all the lines of the packing list and was ready to leave when she noted a large rectangular but rather flat wooden box at the very end of the shipping crate.

"That's strange...this item isn't on the packing list..." Yoko muttered to herself as she looked at the folded sheet of paper.

It was not a cause for alarm since this was not the first time that the packing list did not match the shipping material. It was unusual, however, that such a large crate escaped the attention of the archeologist who prepared the packing list.

Yoko approached the large box, a spell at hand to destroy whatever possible poltergeist that could be hiding in there and a crowbar to open the box.

The box seemed normal enough. Pale yellow wood with regular wooden indentions and tree rings. there was a large brown letter sized envelope. It was tacked onto the box and sealed with a string. There was a singular word on the envelop, "Адриан." The word was written with a permanent marker. The letters were neat and slightly slanted.

"What are you looking at?" Genya asked softly from behind, making Yoko almost drop the envelop.

"Arikado!" Yoko exclaimed as she turned around, her hand over her heart. "How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?"

Genya was perhaps no more than five steps away from her. He wore a heavy coat to ward off the cold and a pair of gloves for protection against cursed artifacts. "I've told you that I would join you within the hour," said Genya. "What is that in your hand?"

Yoko was still telling herself that it would be bad form to yell at her boss when she handed the envelope to Genya. "This was attached to a box that isn't on the packing list," said Yoko, a thumb directed at the wood box behind. "It looks like some type of language in Cyrillic. Now. Translate." Her last word was uttered with a hint of peevishness. She hated being surprised.

Genya took a rather disinterested glance at the envelop, then blinked twice.

The delayed reaction was not lost on Yoko.

"It's a name," Genya said. "Adrian."

"Adrian?" Yoko echoed, making a face at both Genya and the box. "There is no one here by that name here. Hey! Why are you opening someone else's letter?"

"Curiosity," he replied tersely.

Common respect would had made Yoko stop Genya from opening someone else's letter, but she was not about to contradict her superior. Instead, curiosity also hit her. What exactly was the message? What about the letter had given her fearless leader pause?

Genya finally opened the envelope and pulled out a scrap of parchment. The paper was rough and the edges were darkened as if burned. There were only three simple letters on the slip of paper: дар. At the very end, there was a letter "Г."

"What does it say?" Yoko asked.

Genya looked up, incredulous puzzlement in his brown eyes. "'A gift.'"

"What? That's it?"

"That's it," Genya confirmed. His gaze was now on the box. "Let's see what's in it."

With uncharacteristic haste, Genya took the crowbar and began to pull at the box's edge. Nails pulled away, wood splintered, and packing peanuts spilled out.

Yoko scooted out of the way and sat on another empty box and watched, content to let someone else do the grunt work. She deserved a break for coming in on this snowy day. Besides, it was always interesting to watch Genya work; he had a way of making everything seem so easy and disdainful. Maybe she could make a video of him and send it to some movie studio. With that face of his, he could get some acting role. He would probably make more money than now.

Within minutes, the edges of the box pulled away, revealing a large rectangular item covered by a beige cloth.

Genya wasted no time and pulled the beige cloth with a well-practiced flourish.

It was a framed painting.

To be exact, it was life-sized painting of a young woman, standing and staring of into the distance. The contrast between dark and light suggested a Baroque painting. The thick black dress with fur trims, as well as the hand warmer and elaborate jewels, suggested someone of northern Balkan nobility, which dated the painting's object to the fifteenth century. The face seemed young, with solemn lips and wavy gold hair tumbling about her face. The ice blue eyes, however, seemed so eerie and cold that they made Yoko shiver slightly. In the woman's hand was a familiar looking silver cross.

"What a strange painting, but this should fetch a handsome price," Yoko said appraisingly. Paintings were near useless to their hunts but they were great revenue generators. "Right Genya?" Yoko turned, only to be surprised.

Genya covered his mouth with his hand. He made a choking noise. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated as he looked at the painting. His chest suddenly heaved. He looked like someone who was about to have an heart attack.

"Pardon me," he managed to bite out before making an inexplicable retreat. He did not leave to just return to the office either. Judging by the sudden howl of the wind and slam of the door, Genya had left the warehouse entirely.

Yoko stared at the spot where Genya occupied before, amazed and confused.

She could had sworn that she saw blood at the corner of his eyes.

* * *

Hours later, darkness settled over the city and the sky began to drop a slushy chilly rain.

After completing the artifact inventory and preparing for Church Missions, Yoko found herself looking out the office window that overlooked the tanker trucks, ground highways and uniform gray sky. The bleak view only made Yoko slightly depressed. As a little girl, she had imagined herself as a housewife with three children. Had she been ordinary, she would had been at home right now, making dinner for her children and loving husband; not sitting at the office working to keep her unpredictable boss happy.

Yoko pursed her lips in thought as she recalled the year her powers manifested. It was her sweet sixteen. As one of the prettier and popular girl of her class, she naturally had a large party to celebrate the modern coming of age. She had a boyfriend then, her first love, and many adoring friends. It was silly puppy love that caused her to leave the house during the wee hours of the morning after the party to meet with her boyfriend at a cemetery. A zombie happened to rise from the grave and Yoko killed it with a fireball. Her boyfriend ran screaming. She had cried so hard then, not from her near brush with death, but from the utter rejection of her first love.

Since then, Yoko had been under constant scrutiny of the Church. She went through reminder of high school and college knowing that while she could study any subject she wished, she could only choose a profession permitted by the Church. To do otherwise would mean branding as a witch. She had been resistant at first, but she ultimately saw the fairness of it all.

People like her needed rules in order to co-exist peacefully within society. The boundaries were set not for others sake, but their own. The Church mopped up any mess she made as long as she lived within their rules. That was the exchange.

Living under Church rules was not a bad life either. The jobs available to her were decent. The hours were reasonable with plenty of downtime. Too many of her peers were not as lucky as her.

In time, she joined the Archeological Society, an organization that received cases from both the Church and government. It was there that she met the mysterious Genya.

Genya was an interesting figure. He was handsome, unconventional, demanding and charismatic. He was the first man that she met who reeked of magic. Genya demanded everyone to be better than themselves and demonstrated that he could be better than anyone. He worked harder than anyone and seemed unbothered by the niceties and politeness demanded by authorities. His admonishments were tear-inducing but he also protected his own people.

There was the familiar slam of the warehouse main door and the accompanying gust. Yoko immediately dropped her pouty expression and turned to greet the only person that it could be.

Genya placidly paced into the office greeting area where Yoko waited behind the receptionist's desk.

"Care to explain yourself?" Yoko asked with her usual cool smile, propping her chin on a palm and elbow to the desk.

"No," Genya answered flatly as he took off his soaked coat. There were chips of ice that fell onto the carpet as he shook the coat. His hair was plastered to his body and face, wet from the rain. Water dripped from his sleeve. His face was paler than before, if possible, and made a striking contrast against his dark hair and eyes.

"You worried me, you know," said Yoko conversationally with her arms crossed. She leaned back on her chair like she was some hotshot CEO. "That was such a bad mood swing I thought I might have to come save you with chocolates, tissues and a chick flick."

Genya stared at her steadily. Like the last time at Gion, his eyes seemed to turn yellow. Then he scoffed. "I prefer scotch, cigarettes and a horror film."

For some reason, that struck Yoko as extremely funny. She laughed hard and stood up. She touched him gently on the cheek.

He was chilly, cooler than death if she dared to make the comparison. He didn't seemed to mind her touch either. "You're very cold," Yoko observed before retracting her hand.

"I've been walking outside in the rain," Genya said dryly. He threw strands of his sopping wet hair behind a ear. His hair had gotten very long again, almost down to his waist. He then changed the subject. "You've completed the cataloging?"

"Of course," Yoko pulled up the bound report and handed it over to Genya. "Two-hundred-sixty-one items. Six are cursed. Five are blessed. Some rather potent holy water. Twenty are of questionable authenticity. The remaining are of historical significance. I've already contacted our partner curators and societies. Some Museums should pick it up, or they will go into private collections."

Genya glanced at the report, idly looking through the photographs. "What about that painting?"

"It's been listed for auction," Yoko answered.

"I see."

Yoko stared at Genya for a bit, watching hints of any unexpected behavior.

However, Genya was intent on business. "Did you review the investigation requests from the Church?"

"Yes," said Yoko. "A total of ten requests. Nine have already been assigned and given to appropriate agents. I've briefed them for you."

"Very good."

Yoko beamed. It was so rare for Genya to praise anyone.

"What about the tenth?"

"It's given to you," said Yoko.

Genya looked up from the report, puzzled. The Church rarely involved Genya directly. While the man always got the job done, his services came with a price. It was common knowledge that Genya had some type of enmity against the Church and while he never openly attacked them, he would never go out of his way to help them either. "What?"

"That's what I said," Yoko acknowledged. "This mission is from his eminence, Cardinal Weiss. He's requesting your presence at the Vatican two days from now. He said he'll give better details once you've arrived."

"Out of the question," Genya refused.

"Wait," Yoko said placatingly. "The details might change your mind. I did some digging while you were gone. Cardinal Weiss has been investigating some incidences of grave robbing at a Russian cemetery. At first, it looked like some black-market Archeologist trying to procure some bones, declaring them to originate from some VIP, then selling them to a private collection. So three weeks ago, Weiss sent some of the local Society agents to investigate."

"And?"

"I'm getting to it," said Yoko, picking up the piece of paper with the fax. "The local agents disappeared for days. They didn't call in or report. They've contacted no one outside Cardinal Weiss, not even their families. But about ten days ago, they suddenly showed up at the Church headquarter, declaring that they've resolved the issue. They were congratulated, paid, and sent back until further notice."

"Sounds normal enough," said Genya. "What's the catch?"

"There's two catches," Yoko declared. "First of all, those agents, all four of them, that disappeared, are now missing. Their families were found dead days ago. Their hearts carved out."

"And number two?"

"This fax was signed, dated, validated for security, by Cardinal Weiss today," said Yoko. "I've just called the Vatican. They've denied this mission or the entire incident about grave robbers. Cardinal Weiss was found dead in his office three days ago, his carotid artery severed with a letter opener."

The corner of Genya's lips twitched in approval. "A fitting end."

Yoko rolled her eyes. Genya had his morbid moments. This was one of them. "The Church is in a small uproar over this. Cardinal Weiss had been dealing with the small fries for years so no one bothered to keep a second tab on him. His filing system is a mess and his own secretary is in shock over the Cardinal's sudden death. Incidentally, as of sixteen hours ago, Weiss' body is missing. Our contacts with the other Societies have confirmed the events."

The Genya was silent for a while, digesting the information. He then shook and said, "Either some very good hacker just played a glorious prank on us or something serious has happened."

"It stinks of traps," Yoko assessed. "Though it seemed interesting enough." Yoko put on one of her most come-hither smiles. "What do you say, Genya-kun. How about a vacation in Italy? You cannot deny that this case piques your interest."

Genya looked at her, his face impassive, his eyes as dark as a soulless stone. At last, he scoffed. "Sure. As long as you bring along a chaperon."

"I'm not a child," said Yoko plaintively.

"Two chaperons then," said Genya. "Book the flights two days from now. No layovers. Clean hotel. Decent rental. And no spa treatments."

Yoko only gave a guilty look. "I'll get right on it."


	3. THREE

Baroness: Chapter Three:

Disclaimer: Aint mine. Just having fun.

Author's Note: This chapter was dull as heck to write, but I do hope you enjoy.

Departure was always a somber affair, with friends and family greeting, hugging and sometimes, crying.

Yoko arrived at the airport, applying makeup as she trekked across the vast terminal to the check-in counter. She had spent the previous night wrapping up loose ends for the office and making car rental and hotel arrangements. Once office work was done, she ran home to pack and shower without any time to sleep before her sister and mother came to pick her up.

Yoko's sister and mother tagged along, giving Yoko specific instructions to bring back European delicacies and gifts for the family. The Belnades were close and turned desperately attached when a member of the family was to be out of physical reach for a time. The parade was embarrassing. Though Yoko doubted that she would be away for more than two weeks, her family was acting as if she was moving away forever.

"Here are some numbers of some very nice European men," said Mama Belnades. She was a mature woman in her fifties with graying hair and fine lines. The older woman stuffed a small notepad into her daughter's hand. "They're all handsome, educated, wealthy, and most of all, robust."

Yoko put her compact away and took a peek at the notepad and saw glossy pictures with basic descriptions. All the mug shots looked photo-shopped. "You didn't get them off the internet, did you?"

"And paid good money for them," Mama added.

"Ma!"

"Now, now. You don't have to thank me," said Mama, ignoring the indignant look on her daughter's face. "Just bring back a son-in-law."

Yoko took a deep breath. Mama understood that all girls, no matter the era, always had a spot in their heart that wished for a family with a handsome, educated, wealthy and robust man. Yoko only wished Mama would use more sensible means to introduce her to men, like blind dates.

Yoko's sister was much more level-headed.

"Be safe, ne-chan," said Keiko softly with an affectionate hug. Keiko was fifteen year Yoko's junior and was a college student at a local university. She was ordinary, in a dumpy and homey sort of way. Dark hair with a normal face, Keiko had grown up adoring her sister's flashy looks and daring character. Keiko was extremely shy, however, and knew that she could never match Yoko's flair. "I went to a shrine yesterday I got you a charm for safe travel."

Yoko graciously lowered her head to allow Keiko to place the charm around her neck. It was an ordinary type of charm, a small slip of paper slid into a cloth holder connected to a string. The charm had very little power, but Yoko appreciated the gesture more than the charm.

"There you are," came a velvety voice. "Have you checked in?"

Yoko jumped. As expected, Genya was behind her. Impeccable as always, he was very business-like with his proper suit and long coat, his hair bound at the nape of his neck with a silver tie, his expression set in a welcoming neutral. He had two bags. One bag was a rolling suitcase with his personal effects. The other was a computer bag. In his gloved hand was a ticket and passport.

"Stop sneaking up on me," Yoko said peevishly.

"Of course," Genya raised his hands, strangely submissive. Alarm bells immediately went off in Yoko's head. "So, have you checked in?" he repeated.

"No. I'll do that right now."

Mama and Keiko's jaws dropped. Neither of them had knew that Yoko knew such a stud. While Mama openly gawked at the man, Keiko went to hide behind Yoko.

"Yoko! Who is he? Introduce us!" Mama hissed before her daughter could run away.

Yoko quelled an inner groan. Mama's meddling was exactly the reason why she tried to leave without any introductions. "Genya, this is my Mama and my sister, Keiko. Mama, Keiko, this is my **boss**, Arikado, Genya." Yoko emphasized the word 'boss' hoping her mother would catch the hint.

"Well, nice to meet you, Arikado-san," said Mama, holding out her hand for a handshake.

Genya must've been in a good mood since he automatically turned on his charm. He took Mama's hand and instead of a handshake, he kissed it. "Nice to meet you, Belnades-san. I can see where Yoko got her good looks."

Mama was absolutely shocked at the praise and gesture. Once her mind fully registered the greeting, she giggled like a little school girl.

The exchange with Keiko was much more watered down. Keiko stayed behind her sister the entire time, much too apprehensive around strangers, especially men, to even go for a handshake. She blushed deeply when Genya openly commented on her cuteness.

Yoko hurried them up, telling them that she needed to go check her bags and get her ticket. Genya was definitely on the happy pills since he even offered to get some Starbucks coffee for all of them while they waited in line.

"Tell me that he's single," Mama gushed as they waited in line.

"Well..."

"He's not!"

"He's a widower," Yoko explained.

"Recently?"

"No. He told me it was a long time ago so it must've been at least five years," Yoko guessed. It was hard to tell since she had known Genya for years and he never shown any indication of rushing home for someone.

"Tall, dark and handsome with a tragic past," Mama summarized, still gushing. "I love him already. Have you two gone out on a date?"

"Sort of...it turned out to be business dinner."

"And you did not use protection, right?"

"Nothing happened!"

"So he didn't fall for your charms? That's rare. No man can resist my babies."

Somehow, Mama's view of Genya as a potential significant other inexplicably irritated Yoko. "Mama. Give it up. He's my boss. He's a perfectionist. He's obsessed with work. He's not interested. Most importantly, I don't want to be compared to his first woman. That's the end of it."

It was Yoko's turn on the ticketing and checked-bags counter. The ticket counter man winked at Yoko and they exchanged the usual pleasantries and numbers. Yoko was used to going out on casual dates and was proud of her ability to attract men.

Finally, Yoko was ready to go to the shuttle buses for the departure flight terminal.

Genya distributed the coffee and everyone went into an extended goodbye ceremony.

"Now, you take good care of my daughter, you hear," said Mama to Genya who towered over her. "She's a delicate girl and catches cold easily."

Genya smiled politely and agreed to almost everything Mama said.

While Mama lectured Genya, Yoko gave her sister a good hug. "I'll bring back sweets and treats for you," said Yoko fondly. "And if I find any cute guys with a twin, I'll bring him back for you too."

Keiko hugged her sister back and whispered into Yoko's ear. "You like Arikado, and you care for him. Or else you wouldn't even care about the fact that he's a widower or that he works so much."

Yoko gave her sister a startled look. Keiko saw things so clearly.

"Think about what I've said," Keiko reminded Yoko as the two travelers turned to leave. "Oh! Father says safe travels and don't talk to strangers!"

The two Society members shuffled into the packed shuttled bus that travelled between the luggage check-in and flight terminals. Yoko found herself the last seat on the bus and looked outside the bus window to see her mother and sister waving frantically goodbye.

"I'm sorry, Arikado," said Yoko once her sister and mother were out of sight. "My mother and sister are so clingy."

"It's alright. Family is important," Genya replied.

"Come on. Surely you have a nagging mother, overly protective father and siblings who talk your ears off." Yoko said.

"No."

"No?"

"My mother died when I was young enough not to remember the details of her face," Genya explained. "My father, well, I haven't seen him in ages and as far as I know, I am the only child."

Yoko blinked. The confession was unexpected. Genya was very tightlipped about his personal life usually and it took exceptional mood and even force to get him to open his mouth. He just dumped all the information on her as if it was small talk. Yoko felt people in this day and age were entitled to parents, a long life and at least one sibling. Yet, Genya seemed ignorant of the injustice he should've felt. Yoko was terribly suspicious. "Okay. What are you on? Zoloft? Prozac? Xanax?"

Genya stared at her for a bit before answering. "No. Belnades-san. I am not on anti-depressants."

"Then why are you acting so...so..." The only word Yoko wanted to say was _nice_. Somehow though, she did not think such a description would go over so well with Genya.

"Perhaps it's the weather and the position of the planets," Genya suggested in a deadpan. "And where are your chaperons?"

"You were being serious?" Yoko asked.

"Very serious. You're cunning, Yoko, and brave, but you have a habit of getting in over your head. Besides, aren't we walking into a trap?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Yoko said dryly as she pulled a cell phone from her bag. "I'll make the arrangements right now."

* * *

Unlike Japan's recent brush with extreme cold, Italy was in the middle of a heat wave. Sane people stayed indoors. Brave tourists withered. Courageous athletes dehydrated. Over-ambitious pickpockets heatstroked.

Yoko was in a sweaty funk, sitting on a leather seat in the deceased Cardinal's office. She wore a pair of stylish black-frame reading gasses as she pounded at the keys of the laptop. The pencil skirt and light polyester blouse clung to her body, revealing every curve as she brushed sweat away from her forehead. Church officials talked business while giving lascivious glances at Yoko's form. Yoko did not mind the stares; modesty was so twentieth century and she enjoyed the fact that even clergymen could not resist a woman. The heat, combined with the uncooperative computer that she was trying to hack into, however, had driven her mood into a downhill rollercoaster and she positively wanted some excuse to lash out.

The room she was in was ornate to the point of gaudy. Mahogany furniture, bookshelves, desks and end tables, were neatly polished and shone. Plush sofas, silk pillows and Persian rugs lined one end of the room. Paintings of past Cardinals, framed and gilded, lined the walls. Heavy red velvet curtains dressed the windows that overlooked a neatly manicured courtyard. The patterned carpet was thick and soft, marred only by a body tape line and dark brown spot in the middle of the room.

There were five others in the room, two of them from the local Society, two from the Church and one very no-nonsense Genya.

Scattered on the floor around the brown spot were photos of Cardinal Weiss, his eyes rolled back, his neck and shoulder area a mess of dried blood and torn flesh. In one corner, a hologram projection device, depicting the actual body position as found and the location of the murder weapon, was superimposed on dark brown spot.

"So you say that he just got up and walked away," Genya asked the personal secretary named Giovanni.

"Yes sir." Giovanni was rather handsome, with doe eyes and clear feature. He had neatly cropped auburn hair and wore a pair of glasses. Currently, he sported deep bags under his hazel eyes from sleepless nights and frayed nerves. He was dressed the part, in a tailored suit, and smelled of day-old laundry.

Genya, being his usual self, was unperturbed by the discomforting environment. He absorbed the sights, sounds and smells without as much as a raised eyebrow. He had brought a particular hushed quality with him into the room. For the past half an hour, he stood in place, his eyes moving slightly as the local Society agents went about their business and briefed him on any notable details.

The man in charge, the bishop Benedict, who was relegated the unpleasant task of escorting the two foreigners, tapped his finger on the desk and he leaned back to watch to watch the team work. He wore the priestly robe of his office and had the appropriate wrinkles and gray hair. Like most mortals, his temper was rising with the increasing ambient temperature. "I still don't understand why you're here," Benedict said.

"I've told you. A dead man summoned me," said Genya. "The same dead man that walked away from the scene after being confirmed dead by your people."

"Our local agents can handle it," Benedict offered. "We don't need some oriental man interfering with Vatican business."

"What makes you think I'm Asian?" Genya asked, his eyes never straying from the hologram of the dead Cardinal Weiss. Then he switched to Latin, _"Is it my face?"_

Far from being impressed, Benedict only narrowed his eyes. He stopped tapping his fingers and crossed his arms. As a consecrated priest, he understood Latin and responded in kind. _"I've been warned about you and your wiseacre remarks, Mr. Arikado."_

_"And here I thought you would be praising me for heeding my summons from the Holy See."_

_"There has been no such summons." _

_"That's not what your records indicate."_

Benedict narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth. _"I'm watching you very closely, Mr. Arikado. One mishap and I will have you deported."_

_"Good. I'll be sure to send the lodging and travel bill to you."_

_"What?"_

_"The host always pays if he terminates on convenience. This is the accepted practice for both the Society and the Church. Surely your eminence knows the rules?"_

Yoko turned her attention away from the two verbal sparring partners. From the increasing growl in Benedict's voice, Genya was successfully raising the man's blood pressure. There was no point trying to understand what they were saying. The bishop's outward gestures and facial expression told Yoko all she needed to know: Genya was being a prick, end of story.

An e-mail update alert blinked on Yoko's monitor as she waited for the file transfers. Per habit, Yoko clicked on the alert.

The email was from their Society's auctioneer. The man had attached a list of all the items sold and the price given so appropriate accounting practices, along with the government's cut, could be back-checked. Yoko went through the motion of glancing at the auctioneer's manifest and noted with interest that the strange painting they had put up for auction had been sold to an anonymous purchaser in the first minute the item was announced. The time stamp indicated that it sold right before their departure for the Vatican. The offer price was far higher than expected too, for a painting of unauthenticated origin. Nothing too unusual there since there were enough self-proclaimed art connoisseurs in want of paintings for private display. The purchaser did leave a number, which Yoko copied, for later reference.

"Can you two please stop it," Giovanni interrupted, his tired eyes close to tears. "Arguing amongst ourselves isn't going to help us find Cardinal Weiss."

Benedict only looked at the secretary incredulously, having not had the experience of being corrected by a subordinate. Genya however, apologized and thanked Giovanni for refocusing their efforts.

After another couple of minutes of memorizing the details of the room, Genya went to a large black case.

Inside the large case were the usual instruments used in any crime scene investigation, with the addition of holy water, crosses, silver bullets, a string of garlic, tarot cards, dowsing rods and a scrying crystal. Ignoring the usual supernatural instruments, Genya pulled out some dust masks, a can of automatic luminol sprayer with black light, and an orb camera. He went through the motions of convincing or forcing people to put on the dust mask, closing all the curtains before putting the sprayer and camera in place.

Luminol, the chemical that detects the iron in blood, was blasted into the room. A fine mist layered everything, from the carpet to the ceiling. Afterwards, the black light turned on. The black light revealed a large glowing glob at the location where Cardinal Weiss' body was found. Everywhere else though, on the ceiling, the furniture, and the curtains, glowed brilliantly like a disco hall.

"Well, someone has a fetish with spraying blood," observed Genya as if he was describing the weather. "It's unlikely that it's all his either. The human body has about 5 liters and only 4 liters bleed out naturally. This much blood takes at least three more people, more likely four."

"Exactly the number of agents that went missing," stated Mario Garibaldi, one of the local Society agents. His arm pits and front of his collared shirt were darkened with sweat. Every once in a while, he looked at Yoko from the corner of his eyes.

"Vampire?" suggested Mario's partner, Doria Valentine. She had lavish red hair and a pale face. Her eyes were a mesmerizing green. Her body, however, bore the signs of having had children and much physical training. She was slightly sweaty, the hair at her temple clinging to her face. Like most ladies, she still smelled of sweetness.

The suggestion of a vampire dampened everyone's mood. Vampires were creatures that were mid-way between the devil and a murderer. Possessing human intelligence, vampires could easily mingle amongst the general population, which made them more dangerous than any other foe.

"No. Too wasteful and sloppy," Genya assessed as he turned off the black light and opened the curtains again. He winced at the natural sun light, as the heat through the windows flooded the room again. Then he pulled out a handy Swiss army knife and began to tap on the floor. People watched him naturally, all expecting him to discover something profound. Right at the dark-red dried blot of where Cardinal Weiss had bled out, he began cutting into the carpet.

"Hey, what are you doing! You're disturbing the crime scene," Doria interjected.

"I'm confirming a suspicion," Genya answered.

Within minutes, Genya, along with Mario, pulled back the carpet, plastic wrap and the padding underneath. The symbol on the floor and the stench drew horrified gasps.

"Now this is too interesting," said Genya. In the exact spot where Cardinal Weiss died was a pentagram inside a circle drawn in dark red. The outer rims bore inscriptions that were written in Latin using a fine point. The inner pentagram triangles had signs of candles and fine text written around the candles. The blood stain left by the presumably dead Cardinal, however, marred much of the finer text.

"What is it?" Benedict asked.

"An alchemic circle," said Doria and Yoko in unison. The two women looked at each other, assessing each other about that specific knowledge.

"And you're about to explain what that is?"

"It's a symbol for transmutation of objects from one form to another," Doria explained before Yoko could add anything. "In the old days, the objective of most alchemic study was to transmute lead into gold. This one is unusual in that this is a rare flesh transmutation circle."

"Flesh transmutation?" asked Benedict. "Who wants to do that?"

"The obvious," Yoko interjected before Doria steals all the spot light. "Raise the dead. Retrieve a soul. Immortality. Eternal youth. It's never been as prevalent as turning lead into gold though. Too many things can go wrong when you start experimenting with flesh and volunteers are few"

"You sound like you have prior experiences with this," Benedict said, a suggestive accusation in his voice.

Yoko missed none of the implied message in their host's voice but it was Doria who came to her defense. "It's our duty as servants of the Church to retain such knowledge, your eminence."

"It's sinful knowledge," said Benedict.

"But necessary," Doria defended. "We cannot best our enemies if we know not their minds."

Faced with such knowledge, Benedict had nothing further to say.

"Still, this may very well explain how Weiss could just get up and walk away," said Genya. This time, he retrieved a glass vial with stopper and a small razor edge.

When Genya gave no further explanation, Benedict asked, "And you are going to explain how you came to this conclusion, right?"

"Why waste my breath?" Genya replied.

Benedict was about to launch into a scalding vituperation when Mario spoke up. "Hey, we're all working together here. If Mr. Arikado wishes not to explain, Doria here will explain."

Doria obliged her partner. "This particular circle is to raise the dead," said Doria pointing to the triangular dots at the center of the circle while Genya kneeled down for a visual study. "Here is the symbol for return. The points of the pentagram are the pinnacles of exchange, each with sacrificial requirements," Doria pointed to a particularly darkened triangle. "This particular one is the heart of sanctity. Here is one for a virgin's womb and the other for a newborn's soul. The rest is too blotted out to be legible."

"So he was practicing witchcraft here?"

"It's too early to tell," said Yoko, who was sitting no further than five paces away from where Genya kneeled down with the knife and glass vial. He carefully lifted an old chip with the knife and slipped it into the glass vial. The glass vial was then vacuum-sealed and placed into a bag. Yoko explained further. "These markings are faded. It may have been decades since the alchemist or sorcerer made this circle."

"So what are you trying to say?"

When no one wanted to answer, Genya actually spoke up. "That Weiss may be walking around as a zombie due to the miracle of being at the right place at the wrong time."

Seeing Benedict's confused face, Doria explained further. "Time doesn't negate an alchemic circle. A properly made circle can remain active long after the originating sorcerer died. The best guess I have is that his holiness Weiss died here, but also accidentally gave the last ingredient required on the circle for the transmutation. Heart of sanctity."

"And he happened to be laying on top of it so when he died, he became the focus and was raised instead," Benedict ran through the logic. "So what is he now? Immortal? Zombie?"

"Who knows, until we find him," said Genya. "Meanwhile, we've gotten nowhere. We still don't know why Weiss is dead in the first place or where he is. We have no lead on those missing Russian Society agents and their families."

"So what do we do now?" Mario asked.

"Interview, research, and tracking," Genya answered. "There should've been people who seen those missing agents and their families. We need to know the exact nature of this alchemic circle. Lastly, Cardinal Weiss needs to be tracked down."

"You're not the one leading the investigation," Benedict reminded.

"You have a better idea?" Genya asked.

No one answered.

At the very end, they all took a break. Giovanni went home to recuperate. Benedict returned to his duties. Doria and Mario went back to the local Society headquarters to do research on the alchemic circle. Yoko and Genya went to check in the hotel.


	4. FOUR

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Ain't mine. Just having fun

Author's Note: Again, another chapter that is a little hard to cull through. Happy Reading

When Yoko woke up from her afternoon nap, she still felt a little jet lagged. Per her usual habit, she turned on electronic devices for the time lag, set the hotel coffee to brew, and took a quick shower. She only stopped momentarily to knock on the common door between her and Genya's room.

He didn't reply. Yoko was about to call out when she noticed an index card on the floor.

"_Out. Be prepared for field work by 7:00._"

Yoko rolled her eyes as she picked up the piece of paper and placed it on the dresser. Genya was so old fashioned sometimes, still using paper notes to slip underneath the door and not using text messages like every other human being. That was not to say that he did not use things like computers and cell phones, just that he had archaic habits like doing arithmetic in his head and memorizing long strings of telephone numbers.

Seven o'clock was still a couple of hours away and she could take the down time to wake up and catch up on email. Wearing only a bathrobe and a cup of coffee in hand, Yoko sat down in front of the computer.

There was nothing too exciting in her inbox. There were the usual workflow emails on investigation requests, investigation status updates, her paycheck notice, and insurance claims. There were the reports for just about anything in the world which Yoko archived for future references. Lastly, there was the usual assortment of spam emails. It was mind boggling how anyone still think that people would fall for the Nigerian scam emails or any cheap pills that were supposed to induce euphoria.

Yoko's attention and time were spent on the more personal emails. There was the usual greeting from Hammer who checked up on her almost monthly, and an email from Hakuba asking Yoko how she was doing and asking for beauty tips. Yoko's family all sent one-liner emails, wishing her a good time. Yoko's mother even scheduled a blind date for her. There was an apology from Julius, one of the people Yoko asked to be her chaperon, about being delayed and how he'd show up in a couple of days. There were emails from Kasumi freaking out about the stuffed up toilet back at the office and how the plumber had outright robbed them to fix it.

Yoko reminded herself to plant a poltergeist in the plumber's toilet once she got back.

Yoko went through all the emails, glancing through most of them with passing interest. She did pause at one email.

The email was from a partner curator in Jagiellonian University in Poland.

There was no name, just a handle denoting the email as a generic response to a request. As expected, the language was in Polish. After using a translation software, it read as such.

_"Dear Ms. Belnades,_

_Interesting piece. The subject of the painting is a boyarina, a Muscovite nobility, from the 15th century as demonstrated by her dress. However, the painting style appears to be that of realism, suggesting a portrait taken after the 18th century. There are also other discrepancies. The jewelry she was holding is a relic from Catholicism, but if she is a boyarina, her relic should have reflected the Eastern Orthodox tradition._

_This is either an impressive forgery or an earth-shattering authentic. _

_It's always interesting working with you, Ms. Belnades._

_Attached is the complete analysis."_

Yoko opened the attached electronic document and was instantly appalled at the page count. Over two-hundred pages of sand-grain sized text about tone, shade, color, brush stroke and the chips in the wooden frame. How someone spewed so much on a doodle in three days was beyond Yoko. She did not even try to fool herself into thinking that she would read the whole thing. The executive summary was about all she could handle. Luckily, the author had the practical sense of using diagrams and single sentences to point out the major motifs and symbolisms, along with an indexed reference.

Someone knocked on the door. From the quick but soft staccato, Yoko knew it was Genya. "It's open."

Genya silently entered like a ghost. In his hand, he carried a hard silver case this time. It must have been hotter than hell outside since Genya had taken off his tie and dress jacket. In addition, the top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, revealing a silver cross. His sleeves were also rolled up to his elbow. He did, however, keep his gloves on.

Yoko only stared. This was probably as undressed as she had ever seen Genya. Contrary to popular theories, Genya did not always dress in suit because he was trying to hide a blubbery and hairy physique so common to people in management. From the muscles and what little of the collarbone Yoko could see, Genya was probably had one of those heart-throb model bodies. He was very pale though, and Yoko had the mental imagine of him bursting into flames underneath the high noon sun.

"Wow. You look naked," Yoko said with a mischievous grin.

It took a while for Genya to catch up, judging by the questioning frown on his face. When he finally understood the joke, he replied dryly, "Glad to see someone isn't stewing from all of this heat."

"I was close, but I was rescued by the miracle of air conditioning," Yoko agreed. "Coffee?"

"No thank you."

The answer was what Yoko had expected. She pressed her tempo. "Vodka?"

"Not on Society dollars," Genya said.

Yoko only smiled. "Oh well. I tried." She put on a serious face. "So, what do you have for me? I'm assuming that you've made progress."

Genya nodded. "There have been confirmed sightings of the involved parties," He pulled up the case and set it on the bed. The case was clearly not built for just papers. It was small and held a touch-screen monitor with a separate keyboard. A quick tap of the finger opened up a list of photographs with names. Genya tapped on a random picture. A flimsy photograph of a half-rotted zombie stalking a comely looking girl showed up on the screen along with a short bio. The poor thing was only fourteen. "This photograph was taken by a man with a phone camera last night. He posted it on the internet and informed the police." Genya exited the original screen and went down a list.

Yoko scanned the given roster of people. There were twenty total, mostly women and children and everyone under forty. Despite the macabre nature of the case, the fate of those individuals was not so unexpected. Yoko shifted her eyes back to her computer which was turned so that Genya could not see the screen. She was not quite sure if Genya would treat her to a repeat of the drama from days ago. Somehow, an emotionally unstable Genya was a chillingy scary idea.

"So, what are we to do now?" Yoko said, her attention back on her computer. It was expected of her to multi-task. "The usual? Track, trap and terminate?"

Genya nodded. "Something like that." He proceeded to explain how Benedict had taken to the idea of splitting up the effort three ways. The interviews with any other parties and research would be done by the local Society and other Vatican scholars. The physically demanding work, finding the actual missing people in the field, was Genya and Yoko's task. As Genya finished his explanation, he leaned over to shut off the touch-screen monitor and close the case. As he flipped the locking mechanism, the common-place bauble dangled from his neck.

Yoko happened to glance over just at the right time. It was the same cross-like pendent she saw that night at the Gion. It was an intricate little thing, with patterns weavings and blurred texts imprinted into the silver. It was then that Yoko realized what had nagged her when she saw the painting the first time.

"Are you paying attention?" Genya asked suddenly.

Yoko quickly threw out one of her winsome smiles. "Yes. We're tasked with the sweating part of this case since everyone else here is too much of a sissy to do it. I'm to meet you in the lobby in twenty minutes."

Genya nodded appreciably. "Good." With that, Genya packed up and left the room as silently as he came in.

Yoko sat there for a good three minutes after Genya left, staring at her monitor screen. The analysis from the Polish curator was in front of her. The page displayed was the exposition on the symbolism in the painting. She examined the enlarged detail of the painting and zoomed to the subject's hands. In the depicted hand, there was a fine chain vicariously wrapped about her fingers, a silver pendent dangling from the chain. Yoko put a hand to her mouth, leaned back in her chair and sighed. She was not sure what to think about this sudden realization.

The trinket that Genya wore was the same as the one in the painting.

* * *

The night air was so thick that it was chewable. The streetlights lit the popular avenues where people came to admire the sights and sounds of Rome, formerly the capital of the known world. The heat and humidity, however, had deterred the adventurous and courageous souls. Few people roamed the boulevards and the street vendors were too listless to hock their wares at each passerby.

At one of the poorly lit areas, near an unpopular hedge maze, Yoko huffed as she ran and fought the undead that chased her.

Yoko felt her blood heat, miffed that these undead things had the gall to corner her. She had chased one of them into a maze only to find the maze walls made up of thorny roses bushes. Of course, when she met up with a dead-end, she simply torched the wall with fire before ramming through to the next path.

"Genya! Where are you, you turd!" Yoko yelled into a small microphone attached to the collar of her shirt. All she heard back was the static on the other side.

The fighting was not the most difficult part, of course. The most difficult part was this horrible heat wave and humidity that was making her sweaty, stinky and thirsty. Yoko always wore long sleeves and pants while at work. The most minor blessing on the thinnest cloth could make the difference between a gash and an amputation. Right now, that protective layer was soaked with sweat and making unsightly darkening stains around her arm pits.

Yoko gave another kick at the ghoul that was chasing her. She knocked the nasty smelling creature back just enough for her to toast it with a fireball without being inside the blast zone.

The ghoul struggled to get up, which proved difficult due to its lack of arms. It twisted like a newborn maggot, its putrefying features indistinguishable from rotting garbage. It opened its mouth in a soundless scream as Yoko finished it off with an icicle.

Looking down the row of hedges that lead to other parts of the maze, Yoko could make out about five other monsters. The hallows of their eyes and the jerkiness of their movements were creepy as they continued in mindless pursuit.

The ghouls made their way forward slowly, so Yoko gathered herself and met them head-on. She made quick work of them. What was left of their unmoving undead corpses littered the small clearing of the maze. Yoko was about to take a breather and think of good insults when she noted that she was surrounded again; this time, not by ghouls, but by something much more sinister.

There were three of them. Each of them sported fashionable clothes that accentuated and flattered their figures. They did not move in the jerky fashion like many mindless creatures of darkness. They each moved with a steady gait, fangs glistening. Their red eyes glowed with human intelligence.

They were vampires.

Yoko recognized one of those faces from the case file she reviewed. Crist, a man of medium build and black hair and a square chin, was his name. Without preamble, Yoko demanded, "Where is Cardinal Weiss?"

The one name Crist looked upon her with unmistakable hunger. He did not even seem to hear the question. "You look...tasty..." he said, his black tongue touching his lips.

Yoko scowled at the vampire. For her safety, it was best if she just killed him. For the investigation, she was supposed to keep him alive. Talk about having two opposing orders. "Don't be stupid, I know how to hurt vampires," Yoko said, drawing upon a vial of holy water that she had stashed at her waist belt. She held out the vial like a threat. "Now, tell me where Cardinal Weiss is!"

They circled her, hunger and intelligence combining to keep their prey cornered. Ignoring her question, they all pounced at once.

Yoko jumped, using acrobatics to leap away from danger. She used her light physical blows to stall them and magic in an attempt to knock them out. They chased after her, scratching at her, trying to nab her and drink her blood. Yoko dropped a few holy water bombs on them, their skin sizzling as the liquid made contact.

The three vampires, undeterred, continued their assault. Yoko did her best to stall them, and caught Crist with a swift blow, striking him unconscious. She pulled out an aspen stake tipped with silver and waved it like a wand, channeling her magic through the stake.

Distracted by her magic buildup, a fast swipe knocked her stake away. Seeing an opportunity, both vampires tried to grab her, a move that Yoko was able to avoid, at the cost of multiple cuts on her left arm from the thorny hedgerow. However, one finally caught hold of her right arm and attempted to bite her wrist.

Yoko's eyes were wide and she struggled to pull her arm free. The other vampire was coming to her fast, mouth opened wide and fangs dripping with secretions that could paralyze an elephant. Yoko was able to grab the silver tipped stake and knock off the vampire who held her right hand. But it was too late to fend off the last vampire. Yoko's heart raced and her mind screamed at herself to do something.

Then, a streak of silver light gleamed from the vampire's right shoulder, through the heart, and out through the left hip. The vampire was still flying toward her when the flames spread from the gleam of light. At the very last second, its body split in a spectacular separation of upper left torso and lower right body. It gave one last desperate screech before exploding into ambers and dust.

The same stake of silver also appeared across the second vampire. This time, the gleam went through the back, into the heart, out through the front chest and up the crown of the head. The victim did not even have time to utter a sound before splitting into dust.

When the hot particle haze cleared, Genya remained, looking as impassive as usual. One of his gloved hands held a short sword, the other held multiple silver tipped stakes. He wore a long coat useful for concealing the various tools of their trade. He closed his eyes momentarily to keep the dust out. Behind him was a trail of decapitated ghouls as well as a few piles of ashes.

Yoko breathed hard. That was too close of a call. "You're late, Arikado," she said spitefully as she sank to the ground, catching her breath.

"It was nothing that you cannot handle," said Genya, taking out a handy rag to wipe the dust off his short sword.

"I was almost bitten!" Yoko stressed to the point of wailing.

"But you were not," Genya returned. "If you had another chaperone, I'm certain that you wouldn't have found yourself in this predicament."

Yoko felt an unnatural anger rise inside her. She was intellectually aware of Genya's unusually high standards for his fellow field agents, but her heart was hammering. How could a friend not even ask if she was okay? Being so sweaty, stinky and smelly did not help her mood either.

Genya, however, did not allow Yoko the chance to vocalize her frustration with him. Instead, he went to Crist, who was still out cold on the ground. Displaying a disturbing swiftness, Genya kicked the man's limbs and legs to spread eagle, and pinned the vampire to the ground with stakes through the wrists and feet.

Crist immediately woke, screeching like a trapped animal. He instinctively tried to pull his limbs free only to stop suddenly, feeling the sword point on his chest. He looked up, mad red eyes and face contorted into agony and anger.

Yoko put a hand to her mouth and looked away, feeling the bile rise from the pit of her stomach. It had never ceased to bother her how easily Genya toyed with undead monstrosities, not unlike the stories of how Dracula toyed with humans. The only difference was that while Dracula had the patience for drawn out antics like kidnapping, Genya did not.

Genya was always far more efficient.

"Whoever sired you had left you for dead the moment you turned," Genya said in his usual monotone. "So you might as well tell me everything, before you turn to dust."

Despite the pain, Crist seemed to retain the presence of mind to retaliate. "I'll tell you nothing! You Sainq swine!"

There was a slight momentary pause that did not escape anyone, especially Yoko. Finally, when Genya spoke again, it was one of his irritatingly fluent Latin-based languages that Yoko could not understand. Fortunately, Yoko still had the presence of mind to press a button on her phone to record the conversation for translation later. She might get stuck writing the final report and it would much easier if she did not have to ask Genya to repeat the entire exchange.

"You think I'm gonna listen to that gibberish?" Crist shouted at Genya after a few moments.

At the response, Genya's lips twisted into a sardonic smile, a look of realization apparent on his face. "You know what I am, but you don't even know what you are." He pressed the sword into the sternum, the tip thrusting through the bone and touching the undead heart ever so slightly.

Crist's skin began to flake as the subcutaneous burn began to spread. Crist's face contorted into pain, his eyes burned even redder.

"Give up," Genya commanded, his voice taking on a strange compelling quality that was not entirely human. "Tell me everything."

Yoko only peeked a little bit only to look away again. No matter what type of heartless creatures they may be, it bothered her to see a human face in such pain. Her mind was questioning the oddness of their conversation when she felt her throbbing head and how everything seemed so dim. It was only then that she noticed that the gash in her left arm was still bleeding. The adrenalin rush had deadened her sense of pain and constricted the blood vessel. Now, with the adrenalin rush on the retreating edge, the body returned to repair, and Yoko scrambled to stave the bleeding.

Meanwhile, Crist's face contorted in pain. He gasped like a man who couldn't get enough air and his coughs came out in a confetti of ash. "Weiss knew about the alchemic circle! He found a sorcerer who taught him how to use it to become eternal, but better than the Dracula type, the Sainqs. We are supposed to be immune to the sun and religious totems. *cough* It hurts! Please have mercy on your kindred!"

Genya was hardly moved. "But you haven't answered the lady's main question," he pressed. "Where is Weiss?"

"I don't know!"

Genya only leaned harder into his sword, causing pieces of flesh to crack and parts of the man's body to turn grey. "You'll have to do better than that."

Desperate, Crist cried though his rapidly disintegrating lips. "In my pocket! There's a cell phone with five numbers saved! Weiss is one of them!"

With a careless ease, Genya swung his sword and cut into a barely noticeable bulge in the man's pants, careful to scoop the device with the sword tip and flicked it up into the air, catching it with a free hand. With dull eyes still on Crist, Genya turned on the phone and quickly glanced at the numbers on the recently dialed list. With dexterous fingers, Genya immediately sent the numbers back to the headquarters of several Societies.

Crist took a moment of respite from the imminent danger to his heart. The flaked skin had begun to heal itself. Disintegrating lips began to rejuvenate themselves back to the fullness they once were. His wrists and feet, however, were still immobile by stakes. Each minor jerk caused wisps of smoke and a sudden pulsing of blood vessels. His vampiric strength seemed nothing before it. When he looked up at Genya again, he noticed that within the deceivingly emotionless mien, Genya's eyes glowed faintly red. Switching to his vampiric senses, Crist finally felt and saw the blinding blood red aura of this physically unobtrusive man.

"How old are you?" Crist asked suddenly, a terrible suspicion forming about his captor. The older the vampire, the more powerful; that was the general rule.

"Old enough," Genya replied. He turned his back, heading leisurely toward his teammate who had now slumped to the ground.

Crist watched and his human side felt a chill to note that Genya did not even seem concerned by his partner's loss of conscience. With clinical detachment, the man took the blonde witch's vitals and wrapped a tourniquet around her upper left arm. Crist's vampiric side though, was in awe, and felt strangely coerced to obey this mysterious human.

Genya kneeled down and hefted the Belnades witch over his shoulder like a sack. He turned without any preamble for the exit of the hedge mage.

"Wait! Where are you going? You dare leave me, a fellow vampire, here?" Crist demanded.

Genya paused momentarily to say "Dawn is in two hours. I'm sure you're eager to see how immune to the sun you are."

The newly turned vampire blinked, trying to recall a moment when he or any of his comrades saw even the faintest rays. A momentary doubt and panic set in "Wait! Come back!" Crist shouted. "Release me!"

There was no answer, not even the rustling of footsteps. Crist was completely alone, trapped, and awaiting dawn.

Genya walked away, hearing, "You traitor to your own kind! Our people will come and kill you! Just you wait and see!"


	5. FIVE

Chapter FIVE

Rating: T - suggestive language

disclaimer: Aint mine.

AN: I'm sure Japanese does not have plurals. So parts of the clever conversations and word plays cannot realistically happen. So pretend that it does work. Also, in the game, it's highly hinted that people, especially Yoko, knew who Genya really is. Pretend that she does not.

o-o

"Why is it, with all the medical and technalogical advances in the world, that hospital food is still horrible everywhere?" Yoko asked of no one as she gazed at the limp, uninviting spaghetti in an equally uninviting paper plate. She twisted the noddles around the white Dixie plastic fork and gazed mournfully at it. The sight of the oily red sauce oozing down the limp yellowish pasta vaguely reminded Yoko of tapeworms burrowing through flesh. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, Yoko pushed the plastic tray away.

Her roommate, a young girl with red hair and green eyes, named Isabel, giggled. She looked to be no more than ten. She said something that sounded sympathic but incomprehensible before putting on headphones and returned her attention back to her handheld gamer.

The last thing Yoko remembered was a sleepiness before everything turned black. When she woke again, it was sometime around noon. She was in a hospital with a bag of plasma being dripped into her and a monitor taped to her wrist. Her cuts and bruises from last night were gone, no doubt the work of a healing potion. The nurse who was there looked slightly peeved, mentioning something about a drool-inducing hunk leaving only moments before she woke.

Of course, that same hunk had left her with a laptop and all her communication devices, fully expecting her to continue working as normal. There were no sympathy cards or flowers. He left her a paper note summarizing the conclusion of last night's events. The hunt was successful and that all evidence of their activity had been painstakingly erased by the Sweepers, a subgroup of the Society that specialized in clean up and preservation of evidence if needed.

There was a pretty vase full of dasies from Hammer. How in the world he learnend about her mishap, she was not sure. She was sure, however, to roll her eyes at the little card that came with it. The message had always been the same, "Will you go out with me?" Seriously. Did Hammer really think it's that easy to get with a girl? His presistance over the years was pretty sweet though and if not for the fact that he lived half way around the world, she might consider him a potential romantic interest.

For now, she had one last blood bag to go through and she was to be observed for at least the next six hours. Meanwhile, she could either fill up her spare time staring at the wall, talk to an attention-deficient eight year old, or do more work that she would be doing later anyways.

It was approximatley half an hour of futil attempt to concentrate on work, not getting everything entangled with her newly sprouted tube and wire, when the the door to her hospital room clicked opened. In came the one person that Yoko had been expecting from the beginning.

"About time, Julius," Yoko said grumpily at the brearded redhead.

"You're full of cheer," said Julius. He walked over to her bed, gave a courtesy greeting to Yoko's roommate, stopped at the end of Yoko's bed and crossed his arms. The man was older than Yoko remembered seeing. There were more fine lines on his face and his hair seemed thinner and streaked with gray. Otherwise, Julius seemed as strong and meaty as she remembered, with rippling muscles that moved subtly unnderneath that shabby homeless-looking long coat. He placed a comforting fatherly hand on Yoko's shoulder, "How are you feeling?" Julius asked.

"Ready to give Arikado a verbal put down," said Yoko, scowling at her laptop.

"I mean your health," said Julius. "You fainted, from blood loss."

Yoko shurgged. "I'll be fine. I bounce back easily. My magic might take a while to replenish." The constant process of hurt and heal had become as normal as washing one's car. Then she put on a more friendly face. "How are you, Julius? How's Ingrid and the kid?"

Julius gave his trademark roguish grin. "You mean, Ingrid and the children."

Yoko blinked before her mouth curved in surrpised and she punched him indignanly on the shoulder. "Julius! Why didn't you tell me!?"

"I just did," Julius said. "Why did you think I was late? I would never otherwise be so tardy for a friend in need. Okay. You can stop hitting me now."

Yoko crossed her arms, giving Julius a pouty glare. "You, my friend, need to be more preemptive about notifications. I'm sure Ingrid would've appreciated an additional gift at the baby shower."

"What? Arikado did not tell you?" Julius asked. "He sent us something months ago. You know he has asked to be the Godfather, right?"

The question only made Yoko scowl more. How dare that jerk of a boss neglect such important detail? "Okay. I owe Arikado something more than a verbal put down."

"Oh, he probably just forgot to mention it," Julius said, trying to brushing it off while half wishing that he kept his mouth shut. No man wished the wraith of women upon his fellow men. "He probably figured that you knew all along."

"It doesn't matter even if I knew all along! We should've talked about it at least once!" Yoko reasoned. Honestly, she felt extremely offended by the man's lack of communication. Was she so odious a person that he wouldn't even bother to tell her about important addition to their friend's family?

Julius always saw things differently. "Perhaps to him, it was gossip and you know he doesn't indulge in that."

Yoko pouted. When presented as a consideration for others, how could she argue against that?

"Anyways, work now, pleasantries later," said Julius, his usually jocular and slightly sarcastic voice turned serious. "The Romanian Archeological Society kept me informed the best they can. They tell me something along of the ways of several murders, sights of undeads in certain districts, and how Cardinal Weiss was able to contact you through phsyical means while he was proclaimed dead. Plus, Genya and I spoke when we bumped into each other earlier. It seems like he traced the owners of those phone numbers and he's gone to check them out. He gave me a list of locations and he said he would call if he needed assistance. Pretty good progress, considering that the case is already past the twenty-hour hour treshold."

Yoko took in words and made a quick mental list of missing details. She hit on the first one as a matter of resignation. "So he's off on his own merry adventure, huh?"

"You could say that." Julius replied. "I've offered to come along, but he said no. His tone pretty much said that he want to do this alone. He actually seemed slightly pissed off."

"I can understand why. You know we fought some vampires?"

At the mention of vampires, even Julius seemed interested. "Oh? He never said that."

"There were three last night. They must be weak ones since Genya sliced through them like butter. He even managed to interregate one of them." An idea struk Yoko and she dug out her cell phone and a pair of ear-bud headphones. She offered Julius one of the pink nobs. "I've recorded the questioning. Listen."

The two spent the next few moments in silence. The only other disturbance was Yoko's roommate who was quite vocal on her handheld game.

When the recording hit the part where Genya was yapping in some weird tongue, Julius told Yoko to stop. His expression was grave.

"What is it?" Yoko asked.

"I think Genya was speaking the old vampire language," Julius assessed.

Yoko gave Julius a blank stare. "And I'm suppose to know about it?"

"No. The language had been obsolete for a long time. From what I've gathered, the old vampire language is a mixture of Latin, Greek and Sumerian. The scholars said that the very first vampires, which was mentioned in Mespotamian time, over 5,000 years ago, spoke and wrote exclusively in Sumerian. That language shifted with the advancement of the classical world to include some Latin and Greek before a standardization by sometime in the fifth century B.C. The language remained in use for the next two thousands years until the Dracula resurrection cycle sometime in late 1400s."

Yoko considered it. "Any reason why that is?"

Julius shrugged. "No one really knows. Dracula and all vampires tracked after him used the vanacular human language of their native region. I'm pretty surprised that Genya speaks it. No one really knows what Sumerian sounds like. What we know is all conjucture."

"Any idea what he said?"

Julius' face was ambivalent. "I caught a couple of Latin and Greek phrases. Genya asked Crist if he is a 'Ferat' which roughly translates to "wild born." The second pharase is 'Nil Corpi' or 'a creature that leaves no body.' The rest, I don't know."

"Hum..." Yoko had a thoughtful expression on her face. "Maybe I can find an electronic translator for this language?"

"I suppose," Julius' tone was doubtful. "Sumerian comprises about half of their language and it's been dead for thousand of years. For all I know, everything else he says may be pure nonsense like Mr. Crist said. Your best bet would be to simply ask Genya."

"Well, Genya has a nasty habit of not answering when he doesn't feel like it, which is about ninty-nine percent of the time," said Yoko with a pout.

"I wouldn't be so concerned about not getting answers. Since this is an official case, he will answer if you ask."

"And how are you so confident of that?"

"You should know this by now," Julius said with a barely hidden hint of surprise. "Genya is a very dutiful person. Ask the question as if it's his responsibility tell you, or that it'll improve your efficiency, then he won't deny you the answer."

The answer reassured Yoko. Genya was truly old fashioned, with an adherance to duty and propriety. It could be a nice thing, considering that Genya still opened doors and pull out chairs for ladies. The bad part was that he had no sense of adventure. Yoko had yet to get him to even consider dressing room mischief.

The two continued to listen to the recording. At certain times, Yoko pulled the earphone so as to not listen to the pained chokes and groans. Crist last words were pathetic and highly suspicious. When the recording ended, both people's expressions were grave.

"Well, that's weird," was Julius' response, breaking the silence.

"What? The fact that we have a vampire that claimed to be immune to the sun? Or the fact that Genya is so heartless that he just left Crist trapped there to test it out? Or that Crist is suggesting that there's going to be a group out to kill him?"

"That is part of it." Julius' expression was grave. "What's disturbing is that this Crist is saying is that Genya is a vampire himself."

Yoko was agast and her response was shrill. "How can you even think that? Genya is a friend! He helped you, me, Hammer, the Hakubas and everyone of us. What gave you the idea that he was one of _them_?"

"Woah! Woah! Hold your horses. I am not accusing him of anything," Julius spread out his hands, "It's just an inference based on Crist's recognization of Genya as one of their own." he paused momentarily and asked, "Do you know what Sainq means?"

Yoko shook her head.

"Sainq is a synonimous term for vampires. It came into use around the ninth century, from the then contemporary word, sanguis, which means blood. In time, as phonetics changed, the sorcerers and warlocks now will call vampires respectfully as "Sainqs." So, when Christ called Genya a Sainq, Genya indirectly confirmed Christ's assessment by saying that Crist knows what Genya is, but not himself."

Yoko only blinked. The same thought train had occured in her mind, somewhat. But there were too many things that made Christ's statement completely illogical. "That doesn't make any sense. You've seen Genya in the sun and in a church. He uses stakes, crosses, holy water and all those blessed weapons, just like the rest of us. If Genya is a vampire, wouldn't he at least smoked when he was in the sun or even in the Vatican?"

"That does make some sense," Julius agreed half-heartedly. There was one thing that still bothered him in the many years that he known Genya. "I just had never seen him eat anything. Have you ever seen him eat?"

Yoko gave a weak laugh. "Even worse. I've seen him drink **and** smoke."

Julius blinked. It was a well-known fact that humans were the only creatures that tolerated nicotine and alcohol addiction. After a few moments, he snorted and said, "So Genya is quite human and this Crist person is talking nonsense. Perfect combination."

"But he did give some numbers," Yoko added helpfully. "So we got somewhere."

The discussion ended and the two fell into silence. The only sound now was Isabel's rapid tapping on her handheld game and sporadic exclaimations of triumph and disappointment.

"So, what now?"

"I go wherever you go," Julius said. "I'm here officially as your assistant."

Yoko took that idea into consideration. A wicked look slowly blossomed on her face. "You're MY assistant, huh?"

Julius knew that look. Yoko, like Hammer, was the type of person who would come up with ways to play pranks on people when given the opportunity. And unlike Genya who probably had years of experience of how to avoid such situation, Julius was spared of the such training.

"You're going to make me regret coming, aren't you?" Julius asked with a raised eyebrow.

Yoko fished out that notebook with names, numbers and photoshopped prison mugshots. She quickly flipped to the page with the photo of a man who did not look like he had digital plastic surgery. "Oh, don't be such a pessimist. It's nothing hard or bad. I need you to screen this guy for me so I can proceed to set up a date on the last day of my soujourn here. Additionally, get me some dolcini and tiramisu. Oh, And buy me a blessed blouse, a pair of size eight black one-inch pumps and a surprise present while you're at it."

At first, Julius was wide eyed. No matter how long he had interacted with the opposite gender, they continue to suprise him with their completely random requests. Eventually, he only sighed, resigned to the command. As a man, he had learned that it was much easier to just obey than question. "Anything else, princess?"

"Of course!" Yoko's eyes were sparkly. "You will show me pictures of your baby, won't you?"

A proud and warm look over came Julius. The man pulled out his phone and began to show pictures. The baby in the photo, still pink and wrinkly, was sleeping contently in her mother's arms. "She was born three nights ago. Her name is Sofia."

Yoko only took a day to recover. Soon, she said goodbye to her young hospital roommate Isabel and the grumpy nurse. With Julius as her chaperone, she went back to the Vatican to report, regroup and strategize.

The Archeological Society Headquarter in the Vatican was a building with a stately amibiance. Age-old architecure and fresco descorated the walls and ceilings. Gold leaf relics from long past, all made as offerings holy and pleasing to God, sat upon ever pedestal, glass case, and shelf. The floor was a stately granite. Marble statues of various saints and particular, the Virgin Mary, sat each recess.

Currently, everyone was in the middle a large open area occupied by varnished cherry wood desks, small chairs and cubical walls. Over a dozen registered Society employees, some of them also foreigners, combed through ancient tomes, ratty text, yellowed scrolls and searching the scanned archives of other libraries concerning the particular designs of the alchemic circle. The other half of dozen were on the computer, digging up family histories and questioning people who had last seen associated with Cardinal Weiss.

In the balcony overlooking the busy bees below, a meeting with the primary investigors commenced. There were about half a dozen people, with Benedict, Doria, Yoko and Julius as main participants. Cubicle walls with carpet lining was hastily put up to dampen the sounds of the incessent chatter from below. Mario and Giovonni would had joined them except that both men were off on their own assigned tasks. Mario was sent as the director of protection for those who seemed to be suspected targets of this new group of undeads. Giovonni, a secretary who had little first hand exposure to the dealings of the Society outside paper shuffling, was among that group of people of suspected targets. Those two went into hiding at some location only tracable by local phone.

"Mr. Arikado's latest verbal report is that he had discovered two more of the five missing agents, Vancello and Max. Vancello is in a holding cell now, but he doesn't seem to be talking. Max was turned so Mr. Arikado proceeded with Church protocals," Doria said, implying that there is one less undead in this world. "He had already called in the Sweepers to confirm DNA samples, recorded the evidence and restored whatever was destoryed at the apartment complex. That take care of three of the six locations that Mr. Arikado had given us."

Julius whistled. He leaned back on the uncomfortably small seat. "Going at a breakneck pace, isn't he?"

"Yes," said Doria with slightly awe and jealousy in her voice. Evidently, she did not expect a scrawny Japanese man to outperform the local agents.

"What about Crist?" asked Yoko, curious.

"Who?"

"He was one of the identified undeads at our very first survillence spot," said Yoko.

"Our Sweepers reported that he burned at dawn," replied Doria.

Yoko and Julius looked at each other. Obviously, Genya's little test did not bode well for poor Crist who believed that he was immuned to the sun.

"So where is Genya now?" asked Benedict. The man was given responsibility for the investigation of the case, in addition to his usual duties. Given that he was not trained and informed until a few days ago, he had a hard time keeping up with the details of the case.

"Down around the Fumi block, near the old docks,"' replied Doria, her hands on a a steaming coffee mug. Like everyone else, she had lost sleep in urgency to investigate and close out issue. "He said he'll call when the Sweepers are needed."

"Confident, isn't he?" Yoko muttered, shaking her head. As much as she had seen Genya perform incredible physical feats with a surreal grace, she worry that he would get himself killed one day.

"Care to share your thoughts, Mr. Belmont?" asked Doria while passing fertive looks back to Benedict. "I know that you're not officially on this case, but we would still like to hear your professional opinion."

Julius tilted his head. "About what?"

"Mr. Arikado," Benedict interjected. "Can he be trusted?"

"Of course he can," Julius answered without missing a beat. "He's always done the right thing."

Doria and Benedict looked at each other, a realization between them that neither Yoko nor Julius caught.

The meeting continued, going through the disappointing results of the personal interviews of the bystandards who may had seen the missing people. There were no leads so far. The third branch of the investigation was far more promising.

"We've gotten further with the research on the alchemic circle," said Doria, gaining complete attention of her three audience. "The oldest reference to the design was in 335 BC by a Roman centaurion A. Z. Germain. The man was a scholarly equitis of greek origins. He was an innovator of sorts, interested into keeping time and ultimately improved upon the sundials and water clocks. Eventually, he became interested in flesh transmutation, in hopes to preserve youth and bring back the dead. He thought to combat the greatest enemy and fear of man, the inevitable march of time, Death.

"There are no written records of whether he succeded or not. What we do know is that his name was consistently used and mentioned as an exceptional military commander for the next three hundred years. Whether or not it was the same person, sons carrying on the family name or someone simply picked up his name is inconclusive. Then, around the turn to Anno Domini, the man disappeared from all active reports.

"The next resurgence of the design is not until the tenth century. By that time, people rediscovered the classical world from their participation in the Cruasades. Eventually, some recovered Germain's writing and attempt to repeat his experiments. We're fortunate that alchemists of the Crusades kept better records and that is how we've matched the design in Cardinal Weiss' office. We are unfortuante in that all those alchemists never repeated the original intent with the alchemic circle. The few scant writing remaining describes 'foul creatures' they've raised and how their bites infected the living. The main difficulty is that the required ingredient generally required flesh, usally organs, from the living. Since most alchemists made poor murders, all attempts had been at finding substitutes ingredients. Eventually, flesh transmutation was abandoned all together for metals transmutation, which was far more lucrative with guaranteed results."

Doria drone on some more, now going into the details of each ingredient. For Yoko, outside the origin of the circle's design, most of it she learned when she joined the Archeological Society years ago. The information was most rudimentry, and Yoko had no doubt it was Doria's attempt to update Benedict. Soon, Yoko's attention began to wonder and and came to rest on a curious thought.

Germain.

The name sounded so familiar. Where else had she heard that? Yoko ramsacked her brain. The name was common enough as a surname and a brand that it could've been on the billboards she passed by on the way here. Heck. There was a liquor called Germain. The back of her mind, however, gently reminded her that it was more than that. What detail did she forget? Then, just about when she felt that she almost remembered the detail, something completely distracted her attention.

Both Juilus and her cellphones went off.

Yoko's expression was muted as other people at the meeting all turned to them, some with aghast expressions and others looked on expectantly. Yoko had left her phone on in case Genya called for support. Julius had done the same, both for emegencies relating to the investigation and possible distress calls from his family.

She was not disappointed. The call only lastly seconds before she snapped it close and slip it into a pocket. She looked to Julius, giving him an unmistakable expression. "He's given you the coordinates?"

"Updating now," said Julius, looking to his phone.

"Then let's go."

The Fumi block was an old center of industry, just west of Rome, where the old docks and a cargo airport stood abandoned. Twenty years ago, both transportation facilties were deemed outdated and obsolete. The airport lacked the runway length. The dock experienced a several ship beaching due to lack of dreging. With waning interest, lost of manufacturing and little political support, working conditioned deterioated, necessitating a closure of the area. Once the last parcel was condamned, a two meter tall fence with three strands of barb wire was erected. Now, it was a two by two kilometer block of overgrown vegetation and crumbling buildings. Soltitary irridescent yellow lights flickered within the block, interrupted by sporadic gun shots and explosions.

Yoko and Julius flew in on a helicopter to the streets that skirted the condamned block before proceeding on foot. They were fortunate that the Vatican held considerable control over the media and generally kept the human journalist and camera crews away.

Already, from the distance, there were unmistakable signs of magic and curses. Every light pole and wall just outside the fence had some type of survelliance seal or noted simple curses hastly drawn with a permanent marker. As they got closer, the smell of burning incense and metal dust became stronger.

Yoko surpessed a wave of nausea when she hopped over the fence. Her physical healing was supernaturally boosted by potion and her own magic. Such measures only went so far and she had yet to fully recover from the blood loss just a day or so ago.

"You alright?" Julius asked, being the gentleman and waited for her to compose herself. He held out a hand to help her up.

"Yes," Yoko replied almost petulently though she took his rough hand. Once she steadied herself, she unhitched a small vile of healing potion from her belt and gluped the contents.

Immediately, her nausea lifted and her vision sharpen. She felt physically well and calmed.

"You sure you don't want to sit this out?" Julius asked, observing her with a frown. Potion were miracles that can bring back those on the brinks of death with withrawl effects ten times worse than a hangover. "A swig of potion is only a temporary fix. You'll feel worse in a week."

"I can always take my sick days later."

Julius looked like he had more objections but did not press the issue. "Just be careful."

The sorceress nodded. "So, where is he?"

He pulled out the small localized coordinant tracker. The device had a bright red flashing dot on top of a digital drawing depicting the various locations of buildings and their names. He barely glanced at it before hearing a resounding boom and firework in the distance.

"Guess we don't really have to search for him," muttered Julius, seeing that the flashing dot was about the area of hostile activity.

It was another ten minutes of running, dodging crumbling undeads and frightened mafia foot soldiers. Every sane creature had the right idea of staying away from the fireballs. The two humans were insane for going toward danger.

The two Society agents came upon a sizable manuvering yard filled with corroded shipping crates, non-opertional equipment and rusting metal structures. In the very center, there was the unnature roar of a creature posessed. A deep voice shouted. "Come out, come out, you little worm!" Flurries of rampant destruction and ripping of metal accompanied each derision.

Julius and Yoko were careful to keep their presence masked and skirted along the edge of the crates. They followed the GPS tracker and soon found Genya inside one of the many connex boxes.

The said master of the Japanese Archeological Society stood with his arms crossed, looking at the rusty wall, as if he could see through the metal. He looked as unperturbable as ever, with his handy leather gloves, a long coat. His hair was bound at the nape of his neck to keep them out of the way. Held in his right hand was his weapon of day, a old well-sharpened silver imbued katana. In his left hand, was thin rosewood stakes braced with silver. About him were iron wire rope. He mouthed into a microphone clip at his collar. he turned just before either Yoko or Julius uttered a sound. "Greetings."

The graying red-headed hunter gave a crooked grin as another rumble shook the structures about them. Things must be going well if Genya took the time to observe ettiqute. "Did we miss anything?"

"No," said Genya tersely before wincing slightly as the high pitched sound of claw rip claw ripping against metal shook their temporary hiding meeting place. "Outside of hearing loss."

In the fraction of silence, the rampaging inhuman voice shouted again. "Where are you hiding, you freak of nature!"

For a moment, Genya's eyes seem to flash yellow at that phrase. In the end, he settle for a sigh. "Remind me to rip out his vocal cords once I'm done with him."

"Wow. You're belligerent today," commented Julius with a bit of sarcasm.

"He's been repeating himself," Genya said in an as matter of factly way. Then Genya focused on Yoko, his glance took on an unfamiliar look of curiosity and interest. "Are you well?"

Faced with Genya's sincere concern, Yoko could not help but smile. Suddenly, his slave-driving ways did not seem so bad and all her earlier peevishness evaporated. All that mattered was that Genya cared about her. "Yes."

"Physically," Genya stressed. "Can you handle it?"

Well...maybe not so much concern for her than for the mission. Resisting the urge to show her disappointment, she reassured him, "I have never let you down and I'm not about to. Anyhow, who are we dealing with here? You didn't give us any details."

"That is Cardinal Weiss," said Genya flatly, ignoring the surprised look on his companions' faces. "He's been turned."

"COME OUT, COME OUT, LITTLE MOUSE!" the said Cardinal Weiss shouted again. There was a terrible groan of metals being torn and detenations of energy bolts tearing through unoffending storage units, the sound becoming ever closer and louder. "I CAN SMELL YOU!"

Genya shook his head, his features tightening ever so slightly. "Since Weiss is central to this case, he is to be detained," he said, his words just loud enough for Julius and Yoko to hear. "Here is how we'll do it."

The idea to detain Weiss was simple. Distract, weaken, then capture. Yoko was desinated as the distractor. She was to pretend to be an innocent woman who was to be easy pray. Then Genya and Julius would take the first onslaught, using the many blessed relics to weaken the undead. Once Weiss was sufficiently subdued, they will bind the man and from there, transport to the Vatican for questioning. Their biggest constraint was to not kill him.

The plan worked.

Yoko gave a masterful performance. She faked whimpers and high-pitched cries of a damsel in distress. She sufficiently dropped the monster's guard, covertly leaving her hand close to an open bottle of holy water even as she sobbed in feigned terror.

Cardinal Weiss physically far better looking than his profile photo. The double chin, ham arms and generous paunch was replaced by chiseled muscles and skin. Thick legs was replaced by taut hamstrings. He looked like a senior trialthete, with the addition of claws and fangs. Only that nasty scar, the gash on his neck from his first death, remained.

Like any newly formed vampires, Weiss gained an incredible hubris from the raw power of being a vampire. He advanced upon the hapless looking woman, ready to eat her. His mind already feasting on blood when he felt a splash of water on his eyes.

Immediately, Weiss recoil and gave a beastly screech. The holy water burned deeply into his eyes. Blinded, he became an easy prey for the Belmont vampire hunter and the Japanese Archeological Society Chief. He swung his claws wildly only to feel rosewood spikes penetrate his arms and legs, immobolizing him. He roared, sending supersonic blast waves through the night, destroying whatever was in his path only. That only delayed the inevitable as he screamed himself hoarse. Soon, he was immobile, wiggling like a maggot on the ground.

"That was easy," Julius commented sarcastically through the huffing and puffing. "Sixty-some year olds should not be out doing acrobatics."

"Nah, you got another good twenty-years left," said Yoko. She had recovered from her huffing and puffing. Her face had an attractive red glow and satsified smile like she had just finished a shopping spree.

"Of retirement," said Julius. "I'm not young as I used to be." His joints creaked as if to demostrate his point.

"Eh. You just had a kid," Yoko reminded with a cheeky smile. "With college, you can kiss retirement goodbye."

Over near Weiss, Genya was conducting an interregation of his own. "Who turned you?" he asked.

Weiss, still defiant, said, "No one!"

"Do not lie to me," said Genya. "Either tell me willingly or forcibly."

"You?" The undead's voice was incredulous. "A scrawny human will never make me do anything!"

Genya seemed satisfied with that response. "Certainly." He kneeled down, close to Weiss's ear. "You will answer me."

What Genya said to Weiss, Yoko and Julius had no idea. It was just then, multiple sirens blared in the distance and soon, three modified armored bank freight trucks came crashing onto the site. Several Sweepers, men in high-density coveralls and respirators jumped out of the double leaf door in the back of the armored trunkes.

Whatever Genya wanted out of Weiss, it was short. Soon Genya stood up again, his expression as nonchalant as ever. He moved out of the way for the Sweepers to do their duty.

Weiss struggled, growling and snapping at the Sweepers, foaming at the mouth. He struggled to loosen the wire rope and rosewood spikes that kept him immobile. He chewed at the rope that partially covered his mouth, mumbling intelligible curses, trying to keep the Sweepers away. Vamperic infection was highly variable and there had been instances where a mere touch would induce the eventual dementia into darkness. Additionally, Weiss was not as affected by the image of the cross on the coveralls. He seemed invigorated by them, screeching louder.

"Be still, Weiss!," Genya said in a deep stern voice.

Weiss went plank stiff like the a victim of Medusa's stony gaze. His bewildered eyes was suddenly filled with awe and fear. Then, with greatest difficulty on his face, he groaned, "No! I'm...to..be...the next Dark Lord! You...can't..."

Genya scoffed, a sound rift with derisive irony. "Of course, if you want to be eaten alive." Turning his attention back to the scene, Genya looked to the lead Sweeper. "You may take him now. He will not struggle any longer."

The other two field agents, Yoko and Julius, looked at each other with a realization on their face. Their quirky comrad had just let something slip. What it was, though, neither could pin point. They did not have the leisure of time either. Within moments, Society medical staff member arrived to assess their physical conditions. Unnoticed bite marks could easily infect an agent, turning them into rampaging zombies at unpredictable times. Decontamination units also came to ensure no residual dark magic remain on their person.

They were cleared and soon returned to their respective lodging.


	6. SIX

Baroness Chapter Six

The Vatican holding cell was like any other uncomfortable dark, damp and cold jail in the world. The walls were bare cinder block walls with a singular wood cross on a bare wall and a well-worn copy of the Bible on a small pedestal. The solid concrete floor was cracked and somewhat uneven. Water dripped down from the ceiling like the judgment gavel at court. Soft whispers of hymns drifted down from above. The cells were lit with a black light, emitting the painful ultraviolet light. The bars of the cells was solid stainless steel alloyed with silver, sentencing any foolhardy undead a good bout of pain at the merest touch.

For the most part, the cells were empty. The Vatican frowned upon keeping undesirables so close to the headquarters of their faith. "Bad company corrupts good character," as Scripture described it. There was, however one cell that was occupied.

Weiss was pale, his skin taken on a bluish hue. His eyes glowed blood red with thirst. His elongated canines were momentarily visible when he snarled in frustration.

The recently turned vampire struggled against his straight jacket to no avail. The fabric of the bindings was consecrated by the Pope himself and washed in holy water. Blessed objects were natural anathemas against the undead. To Weiss, the cloth felt like fire against his bare skin. What was worse was the blacklights themselves. The tubes emitted ultraviolet light that renders most vampires nearly blind. At most, Weiss could see the extreme contrast of light and dark, discern shapes, glints but no more.

The former cardinal had been here for at least six hours. Since the Sweepers placed him to the cell, no one came to see him. It was as if he was completely forgotten by the very people who desperately sought him. In a way, this was torture. Left alone with only his thoughts and steadily rising hunger, hatred and madness slowly consumed his mind. He began imagine ways to tear humans apart, to drink the blood of maidens, particularly the blood of that witch.

Weiss licked his lips. Weiss always liked stereotypical blondes and the years of priestly celibacy only whetted his appetite. If he ever got out of here, he was going to drain every blonde he meets, particularly the blonde who dared to throw holy water at his eyes.

Before he had much time to dwell on such possibility, the main gate groaned and squealed open. The fragrance of incense and perfume nauseated Weiss so much that he barely discerned the soft footsteps of dress shoes and shifting of a well-pressed shirt.

"Who is it?" Weiss barked hoarsely, his human mind rejoiced at the welcomed distraction from his brooding.

"You know who I am," spoke a velvety calm voice. Weiss could not see the man's face, and only saw the glint of glasses on the man's face. "You couldn't resist him, could you?"

It took a while for Weiss to register the man's words. "Resist? What are you talking about?"

"Resist Arikado, or as your legends have named him, Alucard."

"That was Alucard?" Weiss scoffed. He had learned of Alucard's existence on the very first day he was given the task of doling out cases. It was said that Alucard was the only living issue from the infamous Dracula and therefore, a progeny of evil. The Church had taken an official stance of having him staked and decapitated on the sight like any other vampire. Unofficially, the Church deemed him as a non threat, like mischievous imps, and never seriously pursued the man outside of observation. "You have to be joking. The records indicated that he's been asleep since the eighteenth century."

"Oh really?" the man snorted. "When in fact he's been active for the last three centuries, quietly watching the scions of the Belmont family and amassing the loyalty of powerful subordinates."

Weiss narrowed his eyes, not at all liking the man's tone. "Judging by the disorganized state of the ghouls and zombies, he isn't doing a very good job."

"What's the use of dominance over ants when you command giants?" The featureless speaker asked. "As a Prince of Darkness, he even has command of you."

At that, Weiss laughed, a hoarse grating sound. "He has no command over me! He is a mere human with supernatural curses like the Belnades and Fernadez. Alucard or not, he exhibit nothing characteristic of a vampire."

The man smiled gently, like a caretaker of a retarded child. "The most powerful amongst us are also most human by appearance. He is no exception."

Weiss considered the words, despite his natural instinct to ignore it all. It was quite true that a recently fed vampire often appear like a vibrant human in their prime. Blood and spiritual energy replenished the body that could no longer rejuvenate itself. "So what are you here for? Gloat at me?"

The figure's lips twitch upward. "No. You're going to help me."

"How?"

"By making more vampires."

* * *

Yoko stared, her eyes wide with pang of want and fear.

She was sitting in the nursery of the Belmont townhouse in a suburban neighborhood filled with families and retirees. It was midday, right after lunch. The nursery was tastefully decorated with magenta colors and curtains. There were two comfortable rocking sofas, a baby rocker, a crib and a closet full of baby equipment and consumables. Outside, small children rode by in their tricycles and parents strolled with their babies in decorative prams.

The scene was a stark contrast to the cosmopolitan downtown hotel she was at only two hours earlier. At that time, she was in Rome, wondering how to best baby herself before going back to Japan, the nation of workaholics. Genya had already left, attending to "errands" as he had written in another slip of paper under the door. The case report had already been written and reviewed. She had her blind date set up but that was not for another two days. Then withdraw from those potion would not set in for a week so she won't be bitchy for a while. It had been the perfect day to go out with friends and she had no one to chat with.

Then Julius popped in, asking if Yoko wanted to attend Sophia's Baptism.

It was a last minute thing, being that the Belmonts liked to have time to plan and were willing to wait a month or so for the ceremony. Julius's mother-in-law, the neurotic Gertrude was not. In the last day or so, the busy-body woman had contracted a priest, a church, and invited every known extended relative. Gertrude was going to make sure that her granddaughter would go to heaven just in case the worse happened between now and next week.

Yoko never refused anything that resembled a party. She loved people and nothing invigorates her more than being around a crowd and meeting new people.

So now, Yoko was in the nursery room with Julius's petite wife, Ingrid Ives Belmont and the newborn.

Ingrid was so beautiful, cradling her newborn in her arms, her long auburn hair forming a protective curtain about her, her hazel eyes gazed adoringly at her baby. The sun shone on that curtain of hair, forming an illusionary halo. It was the perfect picture of blissful maternity, like the Virgin Mary holding Jesus, marred only by a high pitched vituperations in the background.

_"Julius! You no-good & *! useless $ &! son-in-law! How dare you *&%! leave my babies the day after she delivered!?"_

_"I'm...I'm...sorry...M..Mother,"_ Julius's deep voice reached them.

_"Don't you *&$! mother me! You won't sass me with your currish charm like you sassed my precious Ingrid!"_

Ingrid suppressed the urge to giggle before giving Yoko an apologetic look. Unlike her high-strung mother, Ingrid was very easy-going and even somewhat a ditz. She did not even bat an eye when Julius, a man who was more than twice her age at the time, proposed to her ten years ago. Nothing seemed to rile Ingrid, not even the blood-curdling, hair-raising colorful language just a room beyond. Ingrid whispered to Yoko "You know what's funny about this? My mum is, like, younger than Julius."

Yoko forced a quiet laugh. Actually, Yoko found the entire age difference a little too unconventional. Her dream man was to be older than her by three to five years. That way, she could grow old with him without having to babysit him. Julius was definitely too old. Hammer was a little over the ideal. Genya was just right.

No matter her personal opinion, though, the Belmont couple always looked very happy together. Yoko had all those picture perfect New Year Postcards as proof.

"Does your mother even know the nature of Julius's work?" Yoko was curious to the extent that Julius revealed his work life. Society agents were like government agents with all the necessary cover occupations and lives. For Yoko, she was an executive assistant, a relatively glamorous job title that required her to be attractive, travel in style and party hard.

Ingrid shook her head. She knew a bit of Julius's real work though she seemed content not knowing the exact details as long as he drew a paycheck and be home by dinner for most of the nights. They had their roles. "No. She still thinks that he's a glorified delivery boy for archeological findings. She complains to me why I didn't marry a rich, interesting CEO or something. Apparently, love isn't good enough in her book."

Yoko smiled to hide her awkwardness, now a little self conscious because she did preferred a rich, interesting CEO type. Love had always been optional, as her first relationship had taught her. She kept on the conversation. "So, where's Gabi?"

"He's having a slumber party with a bunch of his friends," said Ingrid, exuding motherly pride as she automatically described the details of her son's life. "He's in fifth grade now, you know."

After that lead, conversation flowed. Ingrid asked about Yoko's family and hobbies while Yoko inquired about life with Gabi, Julius and now Sophia. They were both gregarious women who enjoyed learning the details of people's lives and those around them. Soon, they became fast friends, sharing each other's deepest secrets and invariably, details of love lives.

"So, this friend has no idea that you like him?" Ingrid asked.

"Yes and no," said Yoko with a sigh. They had touched upon her favorite and sorest spot, her sometime-serious crush on Genya. Of course, Yoko made the reference to Genya as vague as possible. It wouldn't do for a competent and self-sufficient woman like herself to confess admiration of her boss so blatantly. To do so, she would need two bottles of heavy liquor. "We've been friends and co-workers for a long time, but even when I throw myself at him repeatedly, he completely rejects me. I always wondered if he was a homosexual, but that can't be if he had a wife at some point."

"Ninety-percent of all homosexual had a straight marriage," Ingrid pointed out. "You made it sound like it was only for a short time. Did he divorce?"

Yoko shook her head. "No. She died. And when he talked about her, it sounded as if he worshipped the ground she walked on. I can't compete with that." Yoko felt a rise of unreasonable jealousy in the pit of her stomach but quickly smothered it. What was she doing, being jealous of a dead woman whom she never met?

Ingrid held Yoko's hand sympathetically, completely in the supportive-girlfriend mode. "He'll turn around. You're too hot for men to resist."

Encouraged by Ingrid's words, Yoko decided return the favor and steer the conversation to her new friend's favorite topic. "So, tell me about Sophia."

Ingrid beamed with a wide smile. "She was born in the morning at nine, weighting 3210 grams and measured 52 centimeters. I was so scared when my water broke early but she came out just fine. Would you like to hold her?" Ingrid asked. She proffered the small thing like an offering.

"I..." Caught off guard, Yoko's hesitation was not quick enough. The baby girl was thrust into Yoko's arms.

"Here, put your arm right here and hold her close to you. Use the other arm to steady her. Just remember to support her head and don't tap on the top of her head."

The sorceress held the baby awkwardly. Despite having many girlfriends with babies, Yoko had so far managed to avoid holding most of them. The high pitched cries had mostly convinced her that having the little monsters would be more trouble than it is worth. Yet, Yoko knew herself and the dastardly workings of her biological clock and estrogen addled brain. She knew even a smile would drive her to unthinkable wants.

The infant was sleeping and wiggling slightly. She was so small, weighted barely anything and looked like she would disintegrate at touch. Yoko's heart pound and her stomach felt like falling out. What if she dropped the baby? What if the baby started crying? What if it peed and pooed on her?

"Yoko, you don't have to look like you're holding a nuclear bomb," commented Ingrid plaintively. The mother lightly tapped the girl's chest and urged gently. "Wake up, Sonia. Say hello to Aunt Yoko."

Somewhere in the back of Yoko's mind that name clicked with something else. The change in pronunciation was an indication of close relationship, as it was the culture of Eastern Europe. That much Yoko knew. Where else had she heard that name uttered before? However Yoko's mind was distract by a horror beyond imagining. The infant groggily yawned and opened a pair of curious, almost iridescent, blue eyes. The infant then gave an innocent gummy smile and reached to grip Yoko's finger with tiny strong fingers. The bewitching coo was like a vocal equivalent of chocolate floating in front of woman on a diet.

Yoko instantly surrendered. "I want one."

To that Ingrid only laughed wickedly. "I know, Yoko. Everyone said the same thing. Now. Tell me, doesn't she have Julius's eyes?"

Yoko nodded. From her studies of the Belmont lines, almost all direct descendants had blue eyes. The physical manifestation seemed to have defied Mendel genetics and certain iridescence seemed to always mark the next destined vampire slayer. Sophia seemed to have that tell-tale iridescent blue eyes. Except that this was impossible as there had been no female hunters. In fact, to Yoko sudden realization, she could not even recall a recorded Belmont daughter during her brief research inito the subject matter, outside of adopted children.

"You know, I've studied Julius's family tree intensely for a name," Yoko heard Ingrid say. The married woman was fumbling around the room and pulled out a dusty book that say "Family Tree." In a few moment, Ingrid sat back down, and began flipping through the pages. "I thought that Julius would feel more rooted in place, if we picked a name that's been used in his family. He's such a nomad, and he admits that having amnesia about his first twenty-some years of life didn't help. His distant, anal relatives were pretty grouchy about getting in touch too."

Yoko took a cursory glance at the book. Many of the pages were yellow and the entire volume was bounded by a stout leather cord. The book contained records back close to a thousand years, with names written in flourishing handwriting and arranged in a manner typical of family trees. The older the record, the less information. Some names lacked the dates of birth and death. Some names were reduced to abbreviations. Some only mentioned direct lines.

"His family is so old and sexist, caring only for their male descendents. I almost had to pick a boy name and make it into a girl name like 'Georgiana' or 'Simone.' But I found this perfect one." said Ingrid with that self-same joking manner of hers. Ingrid stopped flipping around the records from the 1400s. There, in middle of a complex family tree was a name thrice written and twice crossed out. Next to that name was a rather famous name that looked to be the origin for the remainder of the family tree.

Sonia and Trevor. Next to the names were alteration of those names in parenthesis. Sonia was in its Cyrillic form "Софія Г," while the other was "Ralph B."

Of course, Yoko knew about Trevor in term of his efforts against Dracula and how many famous vampire slayers derived their blood from his. Any vampire scholar could spout out his importance. But what of this girl sibling? She must had been significant enough to be mentioned back in the fifteenth century despite having no descendents?

"It a Greek name, meaning 'wisdom,'" said Ingrid, still smiling. "I thought, 'how lovely to give my daughter such a cute but elegant name.' When I picked it though, one of Julius's ancient, almost-in-the-grave relatives sent me a nasty-gram for no reason! They kept on saying how taboo that name was and how I dishonor and disrespect the Belmont name for it." Ingrid gave a impish grin. "But Julius agrees with me and that's all it matters."

Yoko was only half listening. She blinked, noticing another anomaly characterized by a thin line drawn to this Sophia. It was "Адриан." Yoko's mind immediately raced back to that strange night at the night club Gion and the start of their mission to the Vatican. A nagging coincidence narrowly dodged the synapses of her mind.

"There is a foreboding lack of profanities," Ingrid remarked suddenly, derailing Yoko's thought train.

Just then, the door to the nursery burst open and in came a well-preserved woman of fifty-some years. She had iron gray hair, fine lines about her face, ruddy cheeks, and a portly belly from children bearing and a sedentary lifestyle. Her black eyes glittered menacingly.

Behind her, Julius followed in, looking ready to strangle someone.

"Inna," Gertrude addressed her daughter with her nickname to denote their close relation. "Talk some sense into your sperm donor."

"Mum! Don't be so disrespectful to Julius." Ingrid had dealt with her overbearing mother enough to know that the elder woman was all bark and no bite. She looked to her taller and mucher older and patient husband. "What is she talking about?"

"Mother doesn't like the decision of making Arikado a godparent," Julius said with a barely restrained sigh. He swore that Gertrude was the epitome of a nightmare mother-in-law; she objected to everything that was remotely her son-in-law.

"Mother!" Ingrid frowned artfully for effect. She did put up with her for at least twenty-some years and had learned exactly what mannerisms precipitate cooperation from the aged woman. "You and I have discussed this and we have come to a concession! You get to spoil her, and we get to decorate her room and pick godparent."

"But do you have to pick someone who is almost half a world away? Why not your uncle Paul?" Gertrude reasoned. When speaking to her daughter, her tone was pleading and gentle, a complete turn from her treatment of the husband. "What if the worse is to happen to you? What can he do from half a world away? I've met this Genya Arikado of his and he seemed suspicious to me."

"Arikado is a family friend and quite capable, Gertrude," said Julius, using the woman's name for once. His tone had taken on a commanding quality, abandoning all the placating acquiesces from earlier. It was one thing for her to insult him. It was quite another for her to insult his friend. "He has always kept his promises. He personally asked and we've said yes. He will be present at the baptism and he will be Sophia's Godfather. I've given him my word."

"Inna!" Gertrude looked to her daughter, her voice wheedling.

Ingrid's hazel eyes bounced between her husband and mother, hesitation only lasted for three seconds. "Mum. Julius is right. Arikado will be perfect."

"So where is he now?" Gertrude asked with her arms crossed. "We've already booked the church for tomorrow. Why hasn't he even left a text congratulating you?"

"He did, Ms. Ives," Yoko chirped involuntarily. Her instinct to help Julius and her new found girlfriend taking over. "Hi. I'm Yoko Belandes. I work with Mr. Arikado and he was incessant about Sophia."

Julius and Ingrid both looked at Yoko dumbfounded. The couple knew about Genya's rather legendary reticent nature and knew how unlikely Genya was to speak of anything of a personal nature. Then, Ingrid was the first to catch on, and helpfully added, "He did, mum. He's a really good friend to us. He promised to be be here whenever needed."

The aged woman's expression was filled with suspicion. In her mind, anyone associated with the Belmonts were questionable. "Truly?"

"In fact, we're suppose to pick him up from an airport that's three hours away," Yoko continued with a vapid expression on her face. Yoko had found that people tend to think dumb blondes knew not how to lie.

Julius was clueless enough to utter, "We are?"

Before Gertrude had time to reply, Yoko had gave Ingrid back the baby and paced across the room, grabbing Julius by the shoulder, dragging the man with her.

"We'll be back in time for dinner~" Yoko sang.

In the foyer, Yoko quickly pulled on her fashionable heeled boots and motioned Julius to do the same. There was some rapid discussions going on elsewhere in the townhouse in the harshest Russian that Yoko had ever heard.

"Err. What are you doing? " Julius whispered, still not quite believing in his good luck. He always never get away from a Gertrude related argument so easily.

"Saving your butt," Yoko answered back just as quietly. She pulled out her phone and dialed Genya's number. The man didn't pick up as usual, but instead, a red dot showed up on a map. "He's a bit ways away so we'll have to hurry."

Julius just stared at her, realizing that she still had a tracking signal on Genya. "Yoko. Do I have to remind you that initializing GPS locator outside official Society business is illegal?"

"This is Society business. That woman will kill you if you don't deliver and the Society does have a vested interest in your well-being, considering that Gabi hasn't inherited the Vampire Killer." Yoko replied blithely, smiling all around. "Remember, it's much easier to ask forgiveness than seek permission. And since Genya's is a dutiful person, as you say, he'll have to forgive me."

Julius just blinked and shook his head. Somehow, he felt as if he had just jumped out of a boiling pot and into a frying pan.

With a front door slam, Gertrude's objections still playing like a broken record in the background both, Julius and Yoko hopped into the 4-wheel drive jeep and left.

* * *

Authoer's End Note: Note exactly where I wanted this to go, but hopefully, I'll get crackin' on writin'.


End file.
